


pieces of you stuck on me (but i'm careless and i'm wicked)

by fineosaur



Series: you've become a tempo that my heart knows [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Denial of Feelings, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Idiots in Love, Multi, Mutual Pining, disclaimer: so. much. sex. but it's all significant and is there for a reason, everyone's gay btw, slow burn in a emotional way, this is a rickon story., this is slutty im not sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:26:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 57,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23403709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fineosaur/pseuds/fineosaur
Summary: After a year of a somewhat stunted, friends with benefits arrangement, Rickon and Lyanna slowly learn that maybe 'no feelings' just complicates things.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Grenn/Pypar (ASoIaF), Lyanna Mormont & Myrcella Baratheon, Lyanna Mormont/Rickon Stark, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Myrcella Baratheon/Trystane Martell, Rickon Stark & Shireen Baratheon, Rickon Stark & Tommen Baratheon, Satin Flowers/Jon Snow, Theon Greyjoy/Robb Stark
Series: you've become a tempo that my heart knows [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1684378
Comments: 185
Kudos: 93





	1. i just don’t know where the hell i belong

**Author's Note:**

> this fic takes place 3 years after the events of the first part. the first part is just a gendrya prequel for those who are interested in that (it's not necessary to read before this one though).  
> enjoy!  
> chapter title is from: mind mischief - tame impala

_**late february** _

_**rickon** _

He’d woken up alone, something he was often used to, but in the last months, he had grown more accustomed to waking up beside just one particular person. More or less a year if he was being honest with himself. But he wasn’t completely alone either, he was just alone in _her_ bed. 

Rickon sat up, leaning back so as not to get too much of the glare from the opened curtains. _Why did she always do that?_ He took his phone, checking to see if he’d missed anything since he last tossed it on the nightstand in favour of distracting himself with his lips against her soft skin instead. 

She came into the room, closing the door behind her, wrapped in a towel, her hair still wet against her shoulders. 

“I thought you’d still be sleeping,” Lyanna smiled, setting the mug in her hand on her desk. He watched her for a moment, as she tilted her head back shaking her black hair out. “Stop staring.” 

“I can’t help it, Lee, this is my favourite version of you,” Rickon set his phone aside, eyes not knowing where to settle, taking in the smile on her lips, the occasional droplet of water that ran down her collar bone. 

Lyanna walked to her wardrobe that faced her bed, she glared at him for a moment, tossing her towel to him before rifling through clothes. 

“I take it back, _this_ is my favourite version of you,” he said, placing the damp towel on the unmade bed and focusing on her. She seemed to be ignoring him or pretending to at least. 

His phone went off, a message from his sister that he chose to ignore for now. Rickon sat back against the pillows, watching her profile, the way she combed her wet hair before braiding it out. 

“You’re staring too hard, it’s unsettling,” she laughed, throwing her hair over her shoulder and slipping on a pair of black knickers.

“I have nothing better to do.”

“Yes, you do,” Lyanna walked towards him, still mostly lacking clothes. She sat at the edge of the bed, folding her legs under her and staring back at him. Her braid slowly fell in front of her chest, where his eyes inevitably settled. 

Rickon folded his arms behind his head, taking in the view, watching the way she refused to leave his gaze, “Maybe I do.” 

Lyanna moved closer to him, sitting down on his lap, despite the quilt covering his lower half, Rickon hissed at her movements. Her fingers were still cold against his chest, tracing up the lean muscle till she reached his collar bones, still trailing up till she met his jaw. She kissed him just then, cupping his jaw tightly, causing his whole body to react to her. 

As her tongue came to graze his lower lip gently before meeting his lips with the same force as before. Rickon could hardly think about anything but her, his hands could scarcely feel enough of her body in one go, he trailed up the ridges of her spine before reaching for her braid. Her hair was sleek and still very much damp, but he easily slid the hair bobble off onto his wrist, shaking her hair out and letting his fingers bury themselves in the thick, wet locks. 

Suddenly she pulled away, Rickon groaned, feeling a shiver down his body at the way she looked back at him. It felt like she had him tied down, only to do what she willed. He watched for her next move with a heaving chest.

“You have class,” Lyanna told him, passing a thumb over his sensitive lips. For a moment he wondered if she was serious. Until she brought her hands to his chest, making a move to get off of his lap. 

Rickon caught her by her wrists, pinning her hands behind her back, “Tell me you’re joking,” he stared back at her with an expression of shock but lingering mirth. 

Lyanna stared back at him in defiance, smile of mischief on her lips, “You’re going to be late.” 

“Lee…” He started, his eyes catching her rosy nipples, breasts perked up by her straightened posture, “Tell me you didn’t get me hard for nothing.” 

“Of course not for nothing, I wanted to fuck with you,” she tossed her hair out of her face, still trying to get out of his grasp on her wrists. 

“And what’s so wrong with fucking me instead?” 

“ _You have class_ ,” she repeated, getting up from his lap, putting her weight onto her knees. Rickon looked up at her, swallowing at the sight that she was. 

“You don’t though.”

“So?” 

“I can be late,” he said, leaning forward to kiss her body, “ _make me late, Lee_.” 

Lyanna gasped, leaning into the way he sucked at her skin. “I have things to do,” with her eyes closed, head thrown back, she looked like she was trying to convince herself of it. 

Rickon released her wrists, taking her by the waist as he pinned her down on the bed. He stared back at her as his hands wandered. He wanted to see her face, to see her expression change as he passed his thumb over her nipple. He rolled her nipple between his fingers, hearing a small moan from her. 

He kissed down her body, always venerating the skin under his lips. “What things?” He asked between kisses. 

“Hmm?” It was always nice to see that he had at least some effect on her, like the way she seemed to wash over him, pulling him in with her tide. 

“What things do you have to do?” Rickon went back up her body, letting his hand roam down the same path his lips had taken. He lifted his head to meet her eyes, coming face to face with her as his hand travelled under the waistband of her knickers. “Tell me, Lee.” 

Lyanna looked back at him, eyes flickering from his lips to his eyes. Her chest rose as his fingers went down her folds, He kissed her lips this time, unable to hold back the groan from escaping his throat. “Things, Rickon, I just have things to do,” her voice came out in raspy breaths. 

“You’ve got to be more specific than that if you want me to leave,” he told her, kissing down her jaw, biting her neck between kissing it. He slid two fingers into her, his thumb circling over her clit. 

She had her hands around him, fingers in his hair and clawing at his shoulder, “I never want you to leave, Rickon,” she said, moaning his name, her grip on his hair tightening. Her words rippled throughout his body, somehow it felt like she was tearing him apart, despite the flutter he felt resonating in his body, telling him how glad he was to be around her, even if not with her. 

Rickon lifted his head to watch her face, her eyes were closed tightly, he brought his lips to hers, hoping to shut himself up from saying anything stupid. He curled his fingers, bringing his palm up to take his thumb’s place. “Tell me,” he whispered, kissing her again. 

“I have to study,” she held onto him, her nails grazing his scalp. 

“What else is new?” He laughed, kissing her cheek.

“I have to cover Willow’s shift at the pub later,” her voice got smaller as she arched her back. 

Lyanna pulled him back to her lips, tongue gliding over his as she moaned. 

Rickon looked up to the clock on her nightstand, “Okay, now I really will be late,” he smiled at her, kissing her a last time, watching her lips curl into a smile as she laid on her unmade bed. He kissed her neck again, taking a deep breath, trying not to let the smell of her shampoo unravel him, he had to get going, get out of her way for a while. 

When he reached the door, Lyanna turned to him, sitting up on the bed and throwing her towel at him, “Cover yourself up, Myrcella is home,” she told him, beginning to braid her hair once more. 

Rickon walked back to her, holding the towel in his hand, “You mean, she won’t appreciate all this?” 

Lyanna laughed, shoving him with a hand on his lean stomach, “Piss off, already,” she said, still laughing, taking the hair bobble on his wrist and tying off her braid. 

“So much for not wanting me to leave,” he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Lyanna tilted her head to look up at him, there was a moment of silence, where he couldn’t stop himself from getting lost in her eyes. He almost always felt like he was drowning around her, but in the best way possible. 

Lyanna rose to her knees, arms draped on his shoulders as she pulled him into a kiss. He felt her breasts on his skin, he steadied her with a hand on the small of her back, other still holding her towel. 

He pulled away himself, always reeling himself back to the surface, “I’ll let you get to your studying,” he wrapped the towel around his waist, “I’m going to shower then I’ll head to class.”

Rickon left Lyanna’s room without looking back at her this time, heading for her bathroom, hoping to avoid her roommate who had the misfortune of seeing and hearing too much. 

* * *

His Friday has passed by seemingly fast. Everything passing him in motion, thoughts scattered and before he knew it the day was already more or less over.

With the term coming to an end in the next month and exam term fast approaching, Rickon found life passing him by at a pace much to fast for his liking; he was hardly ready to graduate and find himself a job, let alone face the possibility of moving back home. He barely allowed himself to think of it. Instead, Rickon focused on the upcoming summer swim meet and hopefully just passing his finals. 

Rickon walked into the pub, eyes already locking on his friends sat at a corner table. As he approached them, with the sounds of chatter and music, smells of alcohol and wood, he couldn’t help but let his gaze land on the bar. 

He watched as Lyanna filled a pint at a tap, placing the amber drink in front of a balding man who sat at the bar. She didn’t notice him as she turned to the shelves behind her, taking down a bottle of colourless liquor and pouring it out into several shot glasses. Rickon knew that his steps had faltered just by laying eyes on her, he turned back to the noise emitting from the table where his two, not quite sober, friends sat, playing a game of quarters. 

“Who’s winning?” Rickon asked, taking a seat by the blond who was very obviously the loser.

“Who do you think?” Shireen said, bouncing a penny off the table into a shot glass. 

“You of course,” he replied, turning to Tommen at his side who downed the tequila before putting a lemon slice between his teeth. By the scattered grains of salt on their side of the table and the 5 already emptied shot glasses, Rickon could tell Tommen was taking the brunt of the game.

“What prompted a game of quarters?” Rickon questioned, sprinkling some salt on Tommen’s arm. 

“I submitted an assignment worth 30% of my grade earlier so we’re celebrating,” Tommen answered, taking the lemon slice out of his mouth and passing a tongue over his teeth. 

“Oh, okay, that sounds about right,” Rickon nodded, allowing himself to glance back at the bar once more, looking over the other tables that blocked the bar. He saw her leaning against the shelf, looking at Grenn and laughing about something as he placed a bottle back in its spot. 

“Ew, go ogle somewhere else, Rick,” Shireen joked, sipping her drink through a straw. 

Rickon laughed, getting up from his seat, “I’ll be right back.”

He made his way past tables and people, reaching the bar and leaning against it in silence, letting his eyes wander on her body for just a bit. 

Her eyes met his, a smile quirking at her lips as she got closer to him, “What would you like, sir?” Lyanna asked, raising her eyebrows at him as she leaned against the counter behind the bar. 

“Oh, _‘sir’_ , that’s new,” Rickon joked, his eyes wandering around her body for a moment before settling on her eyes, “I’d _like_ to take you home.”

“Ha, cute. No drinks then?” 

“Nope, I’m driving and this lot seems covered either way,” he said, pointing towards his table. For a moment he watched as Shireen slid a shot glass in front of Tommen, who fished out a penny before downing it. “So, can I take you home?” 

“I’ll think on it,” Lyanna took a step closer to the bar.

Rickon pouted at her, leaning down so his face was closer to hers, “What’s there to think of? I’d just like to finish what you started this morning.”

Lyanna leaned in closer, her face hovering by his “What _I_ started?”

“Yeah, you’ve always got me completely at your mercy. I went into an accounting class thinking about ways I wanted to fuck you.” He traced his bottom lip with his thumb, laughing at his own words. Lyanna stared at him, eyes darting to the smirk on his lips before shaking her head. 

She pressed her lips together, trying not to smile, “You’re so charming.”

“It’s a curse, really.” 

“Fine, if you can wait an hour, I’m off then.”

Rickon nodded, biting his lips in thought, “I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you about something…” A look of concern suddenly painted her face, “Do you think you could come with me for a sec?”

“Uh- alright, just wait,” she untied the apron around her waist, placing it down on the counter, before nudging Grenn, “Hey, I’m just gonna take ten.” 

She followed him into the hall by the bathrooms, where the light never quite reached.

“Is everything okay?” She asked, trying to search his face for the words he wasn’t saying. Rickon pulled her out of the archway that led back to the pub, pulling her out of view, and cornering her into the wall.

“Yeah, I’m great,” he leaned down, his lips grazing hers as hands wandered down her body. Rickon kissed her, the back of her head pressed into the wall. She smiled against his lips, her hands hanging onto the zippers of his jacket. 

“This is what you had to talk about?” Lyanna asked Rickon continued, kissing the corner of her lips.

He took a deep breath in, kissing her neck and pressing his whole body onto hers. 

“Yeah,” he kissed her again, pulling away after just a bit, “Were you expecting something bad?” 

Rickon held onto her, watching the look in her eyes, “No,” she shook her head, “maybe.” She shrugged, pulling on his jacket before letting her arms wind around his waist. “Kiss me.” Lyanna tilted her head up.

“How could I refuse the hot, black-haired, barmaid?” 

“Are you talking about me or Gendry, ‘cause I think he’d be flattered.” 

“C’mon, Lee, since when am I the type to go for my sister’s guy,” Rickon joked back. 

Rickon brought his lips to hers, allowing himself to be submerged with only thoughts of her, drowning out all background noise and thoughts. From her waist, his hands went lower to cup her arse through her trousers, pressing her body onto his as his tongue met hers. 

He could feel the impressions her hands left, holding onto his waist, slowly passing under his t-shirt. Rickon felt her nails graze his skin. He kissed her harder. 

“I don’t know if I want to vomit because of the alcohol or because of you two.”

Lyanna buried her face in his shoulder as Rickon sighed. “What the fuck are you doing here, Tom?” 

“Gods, just trying to get to the men's’ room, I didn’t mean to cockblock, though you two… are going full-on exhibitionist right now,” Tommen, pushed the door to the bathroom. 

“We were just kissing,” Rickon said, refusing to turn and let her out of his grasp. 

“Sure, Rick,” Tommen closed the door behind him. Just then he felt Lyanna laugh. 

“You think it’s funny?” Her face rose to see his, he feigned a shocked expression. 

“Mhm,” she pulled him closer, kissing the side of his neck. He felt the air in his body whip out, everything in him replaced by a soft waved pulling up to shore. “I have to go back.” 

“Lee,” his voice came out in a whisper, “fuck you’re killing me here.” Rickon kissed the top of her head, smelling her fruity shampoo. 

“Can you wait an hour?” 

“I’ve been waiting all day, one hour should be fine,” he lied, he could definitely wait, he just would prefer not to, but he had no choice. 

Rickon let her slide out from between him and the wall, watching her walk away without a glance back. He leaned against the wall for a moment, taking a few deep breaths. For a while, he was able to brush off certain things but when all he could do was watch her walk away from him, he couldn’t help but feel like he’d be doing the same thing for the rest of his life. 

Adjusting himself and straightening his posture once more, Rickon walked back to where Shireen was still sat, her phone in her hands as she occupied herself at the table alone. He pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind and sat down in front of her. 

Shireen glanced up at him from her screen, eyes darting back down as she tapped away, “What crawled into your pants?” She asked, with the sound of a message being sent, she put her phone down on the table, staring at him.

“It’s about what didn’t,” he mocked himself, leaning back in his chair, feeling like he was able to deflect from his weird mood, “drunk Tommen decided it was funny to interrupt.” 

“You two are so horny,” Shireen shook her head, mixing her drink with her straw, “she works here!” 

Rickon shrugged. He leaned folded his arms on the table, leaning forward to let his eyes land on her, not looking away, “Yeah, I know,” his voice was distracted as his heart thudded at the sight of her laughing with Grenn and Gendry. 

“Gods, do you see yourself?” Rickon looked back at Shireen, her demeanour a lot more serious with her drink pushed out of the way. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“You and Lyanna.” 

“What about Lee and I?” _Fucking hells he felt like a fool._

“I don’t know how you two do this ‘friends’ thing while fucking constantly.” 

“We just agreed that neither of us has time to date but we still want to get laid, it works,” Rickon felt himself avoid her piercing blue eyes, much lighter than the blue that lined his pupils. 

“I understand that bit, you’ve had that bit rehearsed for about a year now,” he looked up at her, watching as she rubbed her temples, “I mean that you both still have this arrangement when you’re practically dating.”

“We are not.” 

Shireen raised her eyebrows, both of them ending their conversation as Tommen took his seat on Rickon’s right. 

“Oof what happened to the mood here, are we not all vibing?” 

“Gods, Tommen, what was in those fucking drinks?” Rickon began laughing at the drunk on his side. 

“Ask her, she tricked me into drinking them,” Tommen said, gesturing to Shireen who was mid-drink. 

“Hey! You’re just a sore loser,” Shireen defended herself, ice in her drink clinking as she pointed at Tommen. Rickon wondered what he was ever thinking, having his two best friends be cousins, bound to get tetchy with one another from time to time. 

“I mean, you do suck at quarters, Tom,” Rickon admitted, focusing on their table rather than the bar. 

“C’mon!” 

“See,” Shireen continued sipping from her straw and they fell back into their usual conversations about more or less nothing but a little closer to everything. 

It was a while later when he was so engrossed in Shireen’s wild story about a man in her lecture earlier that week that he hadn’t noticed Lyanna approaching. As if all else fell away, Rickon found himself lost in the sway of her hips, not even registering the tray in her hands. 

“How’re you guys holding up?” Lyanna asked, all eyes looking up at her through smiles. 

Tommen and Shireen were definitely talking to her, he could tell, _how?_ He wasn’t sure, because the only thing he could pay attention to was her movements. The way she placed Shireen’s drink in front of her, the way she leaned over in front of him to place a mug of coffee by Tommen and then finally the way she made sure to give him a little smile as she placed another mug of coffee in front of him. 

“Ooh, what’s all this?” Tommen questioned, cringing as he put the hot coffee to his lips. 

“Well you look like you need sobering up, Shireen is just Shireen so I can’t resist getting her a drink and Rickon just looks tired and I can’t have him falling asleep before he drives me home.”

“Terribly generous of you, Lee,” Rickon voiced out, finding himself lost in her eyes.

He felt this strong desire to pull her into his lap, but instead, let himself look up at her as she leaned against the table with her tray. Despite knowing that he did, by all means, have to be up early for training, Rickon couldn’t help but drink his coffee and tell himself he’d just wake up an hour earlier than necessary. 

* * *

Rickon had driven her home after Shireen had insisted on paying a cab for her and Tommen to get to the flat they shared. Given that he wasn’t in the mood to be driving either of their cars, he’d been more than happy with the arrangement. It wasn’t late by any means, it was only 10 PM, but the air had a thick lethargic feel to it, making him aware of how tired he was and how the caffeine from his coffee did nothing for him. 

He walked into her flat after her, sounds of the tv playing from the living room filled his ears. 

Rickon leaned down to kiss her before she pulled away, dropping her bag onto the counter by the door. 

“I have to shower, then I’ll be right with you,” Lyanna said, her hand slowly leaving his chest as she walked to the bathroom. 

He dropped himself on the sofa, “What are we watching, Myrcella?”

She sighed, turning her head to meet his eyes, “This documentary about the ivory trade,” Myrcella told him, passing him the packet of crisps at her side. 

“Oh yeah, is it any good?” he said, taking a handful. 

“So far, yeah,” she leaned forward for her cup of tea, crossing her legs before taking a sip, “weren’t you just here this morning?” 

“Yeah I was, I didn’t see you though.”

“Ha, well I heard you, or more accurately, I heard Lyanna” Rickon began laughing at her words, recalling the events from that morning. 

“Ah well, can’t get rid of me so easily it seems.” 

“Did my brother make it home safe?” 

“Safe? Most likely, Shireen is the most coherent drunk I’ve ever met, so they’ll both be fine,” Rickon went into the adjoining kitchen, filling a glass with water from the tap, “I can’t say that he won’t have a raging hangover tomorrow though. We both know how much of a lightweight he is and Shireen really laid it on thick with him tonight.” 

“Shireen is simultaneously the best and wost influence,” Myrcella shook her head, blowing on her mug before taking a sip. 

“That’s the most apt description of her I’ve ever heard,” Rickon took a seat back on the sofa, putting his feet up on the coffee table, watching the documentary with Myrcella in comfortable silence. 

He hadn’t remembered when his eyelids had succumbed to the drowsiness he was feeling. _It wasn’t even past midnight yet._ When Lyanna’s hand gently shook him, Rickon realised that he had fallen asleep on the couch and at his side, so had Myrcella, wrapped in her purple blanket. 

“Hey,” Lyanna whispered softly as he rubbed his eyes. 

“Sorry, I don’t know how I fell asleep,” he said, getting up from the sofa and cracking his neck before turning off the tv and following Lyanna into her room. 

Her hair was down from its usual ponytail or braid and she was wearing an oversized t-shirt. He could smell the soap from her shower, it made him sleepier to think of just falling into bed with her in his arms. 

“We could just sleep, y’know,” Lyanna said, pulling him closer as he closed the door behind him. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, I had a long day myself.” 

He watched her switch off the main light, getting into her side of the bed. She was on her phone as he shed his clothes until he was only in his underwear, sliding into bed with her. 

Lyanna set her phone aside and laid back, switching off her bedside lamp, turning to him. 

Rickon leaned forward, putting his lips on hers. It was a chaste, sleepy kiss, and despite how tired he was, he could still feel the softness of her lips on his, the imprint it always left even when he pulled away. 

He switched off the lamp on his side as well, pulling the quilt up for warmth before moving closer to her and draping an arm over her. Wordlessly she shifted closer to him, her arm wrapping around his waist. Rickon fell asleep to the feeling of her at his side, remembering that in a few hours he’d have to peel himself out of the warm cocoon they had and think about swimming several laps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading!  
> comments are much appreciated. i have much more to come for this one.  
> lots of love,  
> [fineosaur](https://fineosaur.tumblr.com)


	2. at times it’s not that complicated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i cant thank you all enough for the feedback on this fic, every comment just made my heart soar. here's a long chapter to thank you all!  
> chapter title from: razorblade - the strokes

**_late february_ **

**_lyanna_ **

It was easy to tell that it was too early for her to be awake. The heat of his body was no longer firm against her back and the room was still dark; it was clear that the sun couldn’t have even risen yet. 

Her head turned to the sound of rustling, dimly seeing Rickon pull his clothes on. He must’ve noticed her wake up, because he hadn’t even managed to put his jumper on before he walked closer to her, lowering his lips to the top of her head before whispering. 

“Morning, sorry didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“What time is it?” 

“Around five,” he said, checking his watch, leaning against her pillow with his arm. 

“Why are you leaving so early?” Lyanna yawned, feeling her drowsiness seep in as she turned over on her pillow, head coming to rest on his hand. 

“I have training soon, I’ve got to stop by my dorm first and shower,” his voice was still hushed as she felt her eyebrows furrow in confusion. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She asked, yawning once more, “I would’ve taken the bus home or we could’ve stayed at your dorm.” 

“On my tiny bed?” Rickon laughed, taking a seat at her side as she curled up to his warmth. He pulled his jumper over his head before kissing her temple. 

“We could make it work, we usually do,” she felt her lids growing heavier. 

“Yeah, we do,” he leaned in to kiss her cheek before getting up. 

“Bye,” Lyanna called out sleepily. 

“See you later, Lee.” She had fallen asleep almost immediately after he closed the door behind him, finding her bed much too inviting not to succumb to. 

Hours later, when her room was filled with soft light that filtered through her curtains, Lyanna woke up to her empty bed, remembering the foggy memory of Rickon leaving before the sun had even risen. 

She laid back, throwing her arms over her head, trying to think about how disappointed she was to wake up alone. Her inner voice told her off for being unreasonable. Lyanna sighed, biting the inside of her cheek in subtle frustration. 

When she finally plucked up the courage to get out of bed and face her Saturday morning, Lyanna headed out of her room and into the kitchen. 

“Morning,” Myrcella chirped, leaning against the island, sipping her tea. 

“Morning, Cella,” she said tiredly, turning on the coffee machine before walking to the bathroom.

“Is Rickon still sleeping?” Lyanna turned around, stretching her arms over her head. 

“No, he left in the middle of the night,” she yawned, opening the door. 

“Wait, why?” 

“He had training,” she shrugged, trying not to let her mood seep into her words. 

Lyanna closed the door behind her, staring at herself in the mirror as she put her hair up in a low bun and began brushing her teeth. She remembered her plans for the day. Given that she wasn’t working, Lyanna promised to spend the day with Myrcella in an effort to hike up one of the mountains overlooking the Bay of Ice, one of the smaller peaks of course. 

* * *

They’d managed up most of the mountain, slower than Lyanna would have liked, with complaints every now and then, but the fact that she had managed to get Myrcella at least up 8 kilometres in altitude was impressive enough. 

Usually, she would push herself to jog up the length of it, but given her present company, she doubted she would make it out alive if she forced Myrcella into it. 

They’d made it most of the way up when Myrcella decided it was time to distract themselves with talk. 

“Are you still going back to Bear Island in the holidays?” She asked, halting to pretend to stretch her legs. 

Lyanna waited with her friend, watching her with amusement. “Yeah, I’ve got to, things aren’t great at home, I have to help out.”

“Is the business still taking a plunge?” Myrcella skirted around the topic, she could tell, though she had no reservations in discussing it with her. 

“Mhm,” Lyanna began stretching herself as well, “My mum doesn’t like mentioning it, but Dacey and Aly say enough for me to know what’s going on.” 

Myrcella nodded, tightening her hair, “How long will you be gone for?” 

“Should be around two, maybe three weeks.”

“Does _he_ know you’re going?” Myrcella asked pointedly.

Lyanna took a deep breath before looking into Myrcella’s gleaming green eyes, “Does who know?” She deflected. 

“Rickon,” Myrcella stated, “does Rickon know?” 

“Why should it matter if he knows?” Lyanna tried not to think about how she had tried explaining herself to him half a hundred times. But the conversations always started and ended in her own head, without a single word uttered. How could she possibly give him the chance to ask questions she did not want to answer. What was the point of saying anything when whatever relationship they had, was not one made for sharing woes.

In all the time she had known him, Lyanna knew few things; he had five siblings, all of which he thought of dearly though never wanting to admit it, he was very well off and had a considerable trust fund, he refused to ever utter a word about his father, and under no circumstance did he comfortably talk about his childhood. But what did it matter? Their arrangement wasn’t made to exchange childhood stories. _It was strictly sex, wasn’t it?_

“You two have been going at it for a whole year, maybe more, how are you so nonchalant about it?” Myrcella’s tone shifted into genuine concern. 

“I know, it’s been a while… but now more than ever, I don’t think I could deal with it being anything more than nonchalant,” Lyanna picked at her cuticles before trying to diffuse the tension suddenly taking over their conversation. “Besides, all I feel for him is lust and friendship it’s just- not like how you think okay?” Lyanna tried explaining herself, knowing she was doing a bad job at sounding convincing.

“Yeah?”

“But Gods, ugh he drives me crazy,” Lyanna blurted, tightening her ponytail. She turned to see Myrcella doubled over, staring at her and raising her eyebrows as she tried to regain her breath. “Crazy in an ‘I-can’t-look-at-him-without-getting-horny’ kind of way.”

“You know, some would say that’s love,” Myrcella bent over, stretching her legs. 

“No, it’s not. It’s just my body showing me that I’ve had the misfortune of being attracted to men as well as women.”

“Well, _one man_.”

“Two, don’t forget Tallhart,” Lyanna laughed, continuing their hike. 

“How could I forget,” Myrcella shook her head before putting on a voice, “Mister ‘I’m sorry you’re just so hot’.” Holding up her fingers in quotation. 

Lyanna began laughing harder, having to stop her steps just to clutch her stomach, “It must’ve been only a minute or two in. Gods, it was unpleasant.”

“And somehow you still gave Rickon a shot,” Lyanna glanced back at her best friend, climbing up the steep path, clutching a rock to help her up. 

“He was charming, okay,” Lyanna huffed, back on level ground, reaching a hand out to help Myrcella up, “I’m glad I did give him a shot.” 

Myrcella took a little while, climbing up behind her before deciding to sit down beside her.

“I just can’t explain it, okay,” Lyanna looked down, taking in the view of the mountains around them and the path they had made it past to get as high as they were now. It was by no means a high mountain, not at all, but Myrcella wanted a hike so there was no way Lyanna would start her off on one of the harder mountains. “Maybe that’s it. Maybe it’s just that I haven’t been with enough guys so I don’t know how I should feel about it.” Lyanna could feel her words, the way she was trying to convince herself she had no idea what she was feeling. 

“Sounds like feelings to me.”

Lyanna shoved Myrcella, laughing despite both of them being slightly out of breath. “You shut your mouth.” 

Myrcella laughed, laying back on against a rock with her hood up, “I’m just jealous you’re able to go on for all this time without falling for him, as opposed to me, whose heart lives in their vagina.” 

Lyanna felt tears of laughter well up in her eyes, Myrcella was absolutely the kind to fall in love quickly, “Don’t tell me you’ve already fallen for Trystane.”

“Ugh yeah, I think I have.” 

“That’s disgusting,” she joked, “well in my case, any feelings I have strictly lie in my vagina, but unlike you, my heart does not reside there as well.”

“You’re a strong heartless queen,” Myrcella mocked her, holding her fist up in tribute. 

“Gods, y’know just talking about him is making me horny. I swear I’ve got a problem.”

“Yeah you’ve got a problem but it’s the fact that you can jog up this entire thing… I can’t fucking feel my legs.”

“Come on, this was nothing. Next week, we’re gonna take it up a notch and you can actually try jogging rather than dragging your feet along the ground.”

“Are you trying to torture me? Is that why Rickon stays around, is he into that?” 

“You asked me to help you get fit!” 

“When I said that I thought we’d just wear athleisure in the house and drink wine.”

“Anyway, who knows how long Rickon will even stay around,” Lyanna got back to her feet, looking at the scenery around them, despite being a small mountain, the peak still didn’t disappoint. 

“What do you mean?” Myrcella got up as well, stretching her arms over her head and taking in the view as well. “Do you think he’s going to leave? Or is this about you inevitably pushing him away?” 

Lyanna rolled her eyes, crouching down to stretch her legs. “Inevitably? What are you going to say Myrcella? That this is my desperate attempt to push any men out of my life because I never knew my father?” 

“You said it. I didn’t.”

“Suck my dick,” Lyanna laughed, “and you have said that to me before.” 

“Was it after having wine?” 

“Most likely, yeah.” 

“Well was I wrong?” 

“No comment.” Lyanna truthfully couldn’t answer that question, because she wasn’t even sure if she knew what her next move was. But the fact was that she was getting dangerously close to Rickon. Maybe it was good that she’d be going home for a few weeks. 

“Okay fine, should we get going?” Myrcella took her blonde hair down, tying it back up into a high ponytail. 

“Yeah come on,” Lyanna threw her arm around Myrcella’s shoulder, “So when am I meeting the love of your life.” 

“Enough!” Myrcella pushed her arm off, laughing as they began their descent, “You’ll meet him this week, I just won’t tell you when. 

“Incredibly cryptic of you.”

They spend the rest of the time exchanging small words, with their conversation running through her head, Lyanna was barely able to concentrate on anything else. And when they had finally made it to Myrcella’s car, Lyanna was so lost in her head she didn’t even notice the looks her friend was giving her. 

“You know, Lyanna, you don’t have to hold yourself back from him,” Myrcella opened her boot, taking two bottles out of her cooler box, handing one to Lyanna, “you’re allowed to fall in love.” 

She wasn’t able to answer immediately. Because who knew what those words could do to her if she let them brew for too long. _“You’re allowed to fall in love”_. Of course, she knew that. Love was sweet, love was waking up to the feeling of the sun against your skin every morning. Lyanna knew love very well and, she knew what it felt like to fall completely and irreparably in love. 

Lyanna squinted her eyes at the sun, breaking the seal of her water bottle and taking a sip, “I’ve been in love once. It was unnecessary, and I don’t feel like doing it again,” she downed more of the cool water, “and stop being so wise and emotionally stable, you’re making me look bad.”

“Ha, _fine_.” 

“Anyway my mum always said men aren’t for falling in love with and Aly did it anyway to shut her up, so let’s hope my brain has been wired by my mum and it doesn’t ever happen.” 

“You know, my mum has probably said something like that too,” Myrcella said in thought, closing her water bottle and stuffing it back into the cooler. Lyanna laughed, closing the boot of Myrcella’s car. 

They both got into the car, Myrcella put her sunglasses on before starting up her car and Lyanna attached her phone to the aux cable, turning on her playlist. 

* * *

A week had passed since she’d let herself think about anything other than work, family and studying (or so she told herself), so when Myrcella told her over breakfast that she was most likely spending the night at Trystane’s after their date, Lyanna allowed herself just a moment of weakness.

Lyanna sat on the sofa, her legs thrown up against the armrest as she laid back against the cushions. She played with the ends of her ponytail, with her phone by her ear waiting for her call to be answered.

_“Hello?”_ She heard his voice from the other side of the phone, he sounded distant. 

“Hey, can you talk?” Lyanna asked, a beat of silence before he answered her. 

_“Of course, always.”_

“You sound busy,” she stared at the ceiling, tracing the light fixtures with her eyes. 

_“Yeah, sorry, I’m driving, you’re on speaker but I’m parking now.”_

“I can call back-“ she was cut off by him.

_“No! It’s okay, what’s up?”_

“I was going to ask if you wanted to come over for dinner, Myrcella won’t be home tonight,” Lyanna traced her lips with her fingers as she waited for his answer. 

She waited a long while, hearing background noise coming from his end, wondering if she should just end the call and wait for him to call back, _“Sorry, just got into my building, what were you saying?”_

“I’m telling you to come over.” 

_“Now?”_ She heard a chuckle and another voice, _“Sorry, I ran into someone.”_

“It’s okay, I mean for dinner.” 

_“Oh, dinner?”_

“Yeah, Myrcella’s going out with her boyfriend so…” 

_“So is this actual dinner or is this a situation where you’re offering yourself as dinner.”_

Lyanna began laughing, throwing a hand over her mouth, “How about both?” 

_“Fuck,”_ she smiled, _“in what world would I say no to that?”_

“Alright great, but bring food,” Lyanna waited a moment, “and please don’t offer your dick as food.” 

Lyanna heard his laughter, she smiled, laughing herself as she got up from the sofa and began pacing. _“How did you know that was going to be my line?”_ He mocked. 

She found herself laughing quietly, covering her mouth with her hand before slowly passing a hand over her hair. _She needed to rein in her wandering mind._ “Okay, I’ll see you later then.” 

_“See you, Lee.”_

Lyanna cut the call, walking into the kitchen with her phone in her hands, thoughts swirling in her head. 

“What’s going on,” Lyanna jumped at Myrcella’s voice, completely breaking her out of her reverie. 

“For the Gods’ fucking sake, seven hells, why would you do that?!” Lyanna screamed, her heart still beating hard against her chest. 

“I did nothing, you were just so caught up with thoughts, you didn’t even hear me come into the room,” Myrcella said in a matter-of-factly tone. Lyanna watched as she struggled to put her earrings on. 

“Here, let me,” she took the small gold hoop out of her hands and slipped it onto Myrcella’s ear. 

“Was that Rickon?” 

“Yep,” Lyanna answered vaguely, putting the second earring on Myrcella. 

“Huh, okay then,” she walked out of the kitchen and to the door. Lyanna finally took the time to look at her friend, in a bright red floral jumpsuit that flattered her figure. 

“Oh wow, Trystane is a lucky guy, he gets to see you like this?” 

“Only at the restaurant.”

She laughed at her assertion, shaking her head as she turned on the kettle, “Okay, get the fuck out of hear and make me proud.” 

Myrcella slipped her shoes on and adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder before opening the door and waving back at her, “Bye.”

“Bye,” Lyanna heard the door shut, the flat suddenly filled with silence other than the boiling kettle and whirring sound of the fridge. 

* * *

When she opened the door, without even a moment’s hesitation, Rickon pulled her into his arms, his lips immediately finding hers. He made her feel warm, despite his lips feeling cold from being outside. Lyanna held onto his tweed coat, pulling him tighter. She felt the bag in his hand hit against her back. Lyanna pulled away, breathing in as she felt his lips seek out hers once more. 

“You’re early,” she told him breathily. Rickon straightened his posture, blue eyes opening to meet her through light lashes. 

“I had nothing better to do,” Rickon shrugged, unwinding his scarf and hanging it on a hook on the wall. She took the bag out of his hand as he took his coat off, hanging it over his scarf. 

“Yeah? And your wet hair is just cause you washed it?” Lyanna walked into the kitchen, hearing his shoes being thrown aside by the door. Lyanna placed the food on the counter as she felt him get closer to her.

“I might have been at the pool earlier,” he leaned against her from behind, his lips hovering by her neck.

She didn’t respond to his statement, closing her eyes as she felt him kiss her neck. Lyanna felt herself being pressed into the counter, heat from his body running through hers. He undid her braid, moving her hair over her one shoulder. 

Lyanna pushed her body back against his, eliciting a moan from him. Rickon’s hands came to hold her by her hips as he sucked on her neck. Her hands delved into his damp curls, her heart skipping a beat as he continued kissing her skin. 

“I haven’t seen you all fuckin’ week,” Rickon spun her to face him, cradling her head as he brought his lips to hers. 

“I know, I’ve been busy,” Lyanna pulled away only to answer him before bringing her lips back to his, tugging on his shirt so hard she was sure to pull some of the buttons loose. Despite the fact being that she had been no busier than she was on a usual week, Lyanna couldn’t help but allow Myrcella’s words to linger in her head. All that was said as they hiked was said in a tone of dismissal and mirth, but the underlying fear she had couldn’t help but bubble up at every mention of love and the recklessness she associated it with. 

Rickon’s fingers tugged on her hair as he kissed her, the kitchen counter digging into her back as he pushed his body against hers. Lyanna laid her palms flat against his chest, feeling up his body, feeling his chiselled chest through his shirt. She popped each button one by one before letting her hands wander across his freckled skin. He balanced himself with his hand on the counter behind her, staring down at her as her hands went further down his body and to his belt. 

As she unlooped his belt, Rickon took a deep breath, watching her deft hands as she undid his trousers as well. He brought his lips to hers once more, nipping her lower lip as he pulled off her trousers with little care, knickers done away with promptly as his hands immediately seeking out her naked skin. 

He lifted her up to the counter, bracing the back of her head with his hand as he kissed her again, shielding her from hitting against the wooden cupboard on the wall. 

Lyanna traced her fingers over his jaw, pulling her lips away from his and staring into his darkened eyes. She grazed his lips with her fingers, coming down to his chin as she tilted his head to hers. 

“Fuck me, Rickon,” she ordered him, watching as his breath hitched for a moment before he kissed her, pulling her to the edge of the counter. 

“Anything for you, love,” he whispered in her ear, entering her in one thrust. 

“Fuck- no, shh,” Lyanna moaned, putting her fingers over his mouth before bringing his lips to hers to keep him quiet; to stop him from saying anything else that would make her heart squeeze. He pulled away as she did, kissing down her jaw slowly, inching to her neck. Then once more he pulled away, his hands coming under her t-shirt, helping her out of it, tossing it to the side before he let his hands flit over her body. Lyanna held onto the handle of the cupboard behind her as he continued up her body. 

Rickon had a habit of slowly tracing up her spine with the tips of his fingers, sending heat up her body as well as down. He always seemed to take such care in being delicate but rough in all the ways that mattered. He unclasped her bra, lips pulling away from her skin as he looked down at her body. His breathing was heavy as he slid the white lace piece off of her, palms coming to cup her breasts. Lyanna moaned as his thumb passed over her sensitive nipple. 

Lyanna tightened her legs around him, pulling him closer with an arm around his shoulders as well. She left kisses along his jaw, which was lined with just the slightest bit of stubble, hardly noticeable with his hair colour, but indubitably felt against her skin. 

He held her tightly on the edge of the counter as he kissed her skin. The voice in her head grew smaller as she focused on him. 

With his lips on her neck, he held onto her thigh, bringing his hand between them lazily rubbing her clit between his fingers as his tongue met hers. She didn’t know when they went from being insistent and desperate to languid and all-consuming. 

Lyanna’s nails dug into his shoulder, his hair against her cheek as she felt her body overwhelm with bliss, trembling as she wrapped her legs tighter around him. 

She felt weightless in his grasp, hearing him groan against her skin, mumbling her name over.

Rickon breathed heavily against her shoulder, laying kisses every now and then as his hands continued mindless circles on her skin. She was still clinging to him, her fingers laced in his auburn curls, damp yet still soft to the touch. He lifted his head, straightening his back ever so slightly to meet her eyes. 

Lyanna watched as his eyes darted down her body. She watched him stare at her naked body as he tucked himself back into his underwear, his fingers coming to trail down her chest before looking back at her eyes. 

“I couldn’t help but think of you every day for the last week,” Rickon told her as his finger traced a line up her sternum. She smiled, guiding his hand further up her body, taking his finger in her mouth. Lyanna couldn’t help but feel intoxicated by the way he groaned at her actions. 

Lyanna removed his finger with a pop, watching his dark eyes, “Oh yeah? What are you doing when you think of me?” She couldn’t help but laugh at the end of the question, watching his lips quirk into a smile. 

“Would you like me to show you?” He answered, kissing her neck as they both laughed. 

Lyanna shoved him slightly, trying to bite back her smile as she shook her head. “You’re lucky you’re hot,” she joked, getting off the counter and picking up her t-shirt from its spot on the floor. She finally unpacked the sushi he brought, remembering how hungry she was. 

“You think I’m hot?” Rickon grinned, leaning against the counter and staring at her.

She opened the container of soya sauce before turning to him, licking off the bit she got on her thumb. Her eyes took him in, his trousers that fit him just right, fly and belt still undone, his opened shirt showing off his lean chest, she followed his strong neck, the line of his jaw that all gave into the smug look on his face. “Do you think I fuck you for your kind heart?” 

“I wasn’t aware I had a ‘kind heart’,” Rickon ran his fingers through his hair, walking towards her and leaning against the counter near her. She stayed silent, looking up at him for a moment before he came down to kiss her.

He pushed her hair back as he kissed her, cupping her face as he leaned into her. Lyanna tilted her head back, her tongue seeking out his. She moaned against his lips, finding herself getting lost in him, like loose sand running down her fingers, she could hardly pick herself up. 

Lyanna let laid her hands against his chest before slowly inching up his back. When his phone suddenly began ringing, he pulled away, leaning his forehead against hers as he took a few deep breaths. She stared at his face, his eyes still shut, freckles spattered against his skin, tempted to kiss each one. 

Rickon took a step back from her, fishing his phone out of his back pocket and staring at the screen. Lyanna heard his exasperated sigh as he closed his eyes in irritation. She watched him in confusion as he stared at his ringing phone. 

“Can you give me a minute? I’ve got to take this,” he was already walking away as he told her, going into her room and closing the door behind him. 

Lyanna took her time bringing the food to the coffee table in the living room, trying not to wonder about Rickon’s odd energy towards whoever was calling him. And she certainly didn’t dwell on the fact that he had taken over fifteen minutes closed up in her room on the phone. 

When he came out, she was going through Myrcella’s wine selection, thinking which would likely go best with sushi. She could see the rage clear on his face and in his posture, but she tried not to say anything about it, instead trying to clear his mind. 

“Choose one of Myrcella’s wines. There’s… I don’t know what half these things even mean, Syrah? Is that how you pronounce it?” Lyanna stared at the bottles as he walked over, “Usually I’ll tell her to get me a glass and she picks whatever she’s feeling that day.” 

“Come here,” Rickon took the bottle out of her hand, staring at the label and putting it back, “this one’s a bit sweet, let me see what else she’s got.” 

“Since when are you a wine expert?” 

Lyanna heard a short laugh from him, his chest felt cold against her hands, “My mum,” he scoffed, softly scratching his jaw. 

“Why are you so cold- were you outside?” She stared up at him, _it had snowed just a few weeks ago and he was outside in an opened shirt at night?_

“Yeah, I took my call on the fire escape outside your window.” he didn’t even meet her eyes, grabbing a bottle in his hand, “This one should be good.”

Lyanna nodded, taking the bottle out of his hands and placing it on the counter beside her. “Are you alright?” She watched the way he looked away, his eyes darting everywhere but her gaze. 

He finally looked down at her, shrugging his shoulders, “I’m fine,” he was clearly lying to her. 

“You don’t seem fine,” her hands ran up his arms. 

Rickon’s blue gaze tore her apart for a moment, just a moment before he looked away. When her arms reached his shoulders he let his hands hold her as well. He smiled down at her, leaning down to meet her lips softly. 

“I’m fine, Lee,” he assured her, kissing her again, “how could I not be? I’m with you.”

Lyanna fought the instinct that led her heart to ricochet in her chest at his words, looping her arms around his neck and bringing him into a proper kiss, hoping to warm him up even in the slightest. 

“Fine,” she repeated, kissing him deeply as he slowly backed her into the dining table, hoisting her up onto it all whilst kissing her. 

He took a step back from her, watching her with arms crossed against his chest. “Take your top off,” he told her, licking his lips as he stared at her. Lyanna stared back at him, smile at her lips at she sat back in defiance. “Take your top off, Lee.” He told her again, this time in a raspy whisper as he got closer to her. It sent a spark up her spine but she refused to back down. “I’ll make it worth your while,” he said, knuckles grazing against her naked thigh, “I just want a peek at your tits.” 

“You’re full of shit, you know that, right?” Lyanna laughed, holding him by his fly. 

“I know, I fucking know,” he said, his breath right by her ear, his lips passing over her neck, with each drag, she felt his stubble against her skin. “Now take off your shirt, please?” 

Lyanna lifted her t-shirt off, throwing it against one of the chairs. She felt goosebumps rise over her skin at his gaze, hoping it was just because she was cold. 

Rickon immediately began kissing down her body, taking his time to suck on her breasts, the way he nipped at her skin was bound to leave a few marks. 

With one hand keeping her balance, Lyanna held onto his head, burying her fingers in his hair as he swirled her nipple with his tongue, head travelling lower with each kiss. 

Her leg was propped up on his shoulder when he came back up to press his lips to hers. Completely distracting her as he slid two fingers into her. Rickon pulled away shortly to meet her eyes, smile crossing his face as he kissed down her body once more. 

She could hardly pinpoint exactly what he did in each moment, her eyes closed as she let him take over. Lyanna took his hand in hers, bringing it over her breast and squeezing, moaning incoherently.

Lyanna arched her back, wooden table hard against her head as her fingers lost themselves in Rickon’s hair. Each suck, each curl of his fingers, each flick of his tongue just sent her further into oblivion, it was almost extraordinary that she was able to hear the distinct sound of keys outside their front door. 

“Rickon,” she moaned, tugging his hair, “Rickon,” each time more insistent than the last, she held onto his hand, the one which squeezed her breast tightly, rolling her nipple with his thumb every now and then. Lyanna sat up, her hair tumbling down against her shoulders, “Rickon!” He looked up at her, “The door!” She gestured.

“The door?” He asked, confused before using his ears and pulling her down from the table and pulling her with him as they stumbled into her room. 

Rickon slammed the door behind them pulling her into a kiss and laughing against her lips. She didn’t mind that she could taste herself on his tongue, or the fact that she most definitely had beard burn on her inner thighs. She only laughed as well, pulling his shirt down his shoulders and walking backwards into her bed. 

“I thought you said we’d be alone tonight?” Rickon said as he took his trousers off, throwing them to the side of the room with his underwear. 

Lyanna laid back against her bed, unable to quite take her eyes off him. _Where did he get off looking so gorgeous?_ She told herself each time that she was only thinking objectively but it was just getting harder to convince herself sometimes. 

“She told me she wouldn’t be coming home,” Lyanna watched him get closer, “maybe her boyfriend just wasn’t up for it.” 

Rickon laughed, leaning down to kiss her, both of them falling onto the bed together. “I’d much rather talk about you right now,” he whispered against her skin. 

Lyanna pushed him aside, climbing into his lap and cupping his face with both hands, “Talk as much as you want,” she told him, licking his lower lip before kissing him. She pulled away, aligning herself with his cock, sitting down on him, rewarding her a breathy groan. Lyanna watched his adam’s apple bob as she slowly rocked her hips against him.

“Gods, where have you been all week, Lee?” he asked, holding her tightly as his eyes fluttered shut. _I was busy,_ she told herself. 

She bit back a smile, kissing him rather than explaining herself. 

“You know, I was at least hoping to get some noise out of you,” he told her, bringing his lips down to her neck. 

“What’s stopping you?” 

“I didn’t quite mind Myrcella’s cat but-“

“Maybe a little noise will make Myrcella think twice about promising the flat to me,” Lyanna couldn’t help but smile at the look that crossed his face. “So are you gonna make me scream or what?” 

Rickon’s grip on her hair grew tighter as he groaned, opening his eyes to meet hers, “You can’t just say shit like that,” he began, his blue eyes darting up her body, “and just expect me to stay sane.” He leaned into her, bringing her lips to his roughly. 

Rickon turned them over, putting Lyanna on her back as he came on top of her, both of them still as he let his hand brush her hair out of her face. 

Lyanna’s hand was in his hair as well, passing along the back of his head where the hair was shorter than the curls on top. “Rickon?” It felt like all the air had left her lungs just by saying his name. 

“Mhm?” 

“Kiss me,” she adjusted herself under him, her hands slowly passing down his neck, rubbing his shoulders gently. 

He leaned down, kissing her softly with hands still in her hair. 

After a while with her body still draped across his, and his hands in her hair it was hard not to just fall asleep at that moment. She could hear the steady beat of his heart under her ear and all she could seem to think about was the way his fingers weaved through her hair slowly. She traced his tattoo that was in sight, the one that sat along the right side of his abdomen. Minimal outline of a tree with a date he never spoke of, one where he couldn’t have been more than ten for.

Lyanna lifted her head, folding her arms over his chest and staring up at Rickon. His eyes were still closed but a soft smile marked his lips as he laid back. The light in her room was warm and yellow, giving a smooth glow to the freckles that peppered his skin. His fingers stayed in her hair, even when he slowly peeked at her through crystal eyes, his smile growing wider at the sight of her. 

She wondered if she should bring up Bear Island, but locked away in that thought was the one that warned her what would happen when she went back. Lyanna hardly wanted to ruin a moment like this with her negativity. She allowed those thoughts to weigh heavy on her heartstrings, as long as it wasn’t taking that smile off of his lips. 

Lyanna leaned forward, kissing his beaming face before looking back up, “I’m just going to the bathroom, I’ll be right back.”

He sat up against his elbows, watching her look around the room in amusement, “You left your clothes in the kitchen,” she closed her eyes, thinking of her stupidity, “just take my shirt.” 

Lyanna picked up the off white shirt, turning to him as she slipped it on and began buttoning it up, “Do you think it fits?” She mocked, holding up her hands as the sleeves slid down her arms.

“Perfectly,” Rickon smiled. 

She felt his eyes on her as she crept out of the room twisting her long hair, trying to remember where her hair bobble had gone. 

“Lyanna!” 

Lyanna saw Myrcella’s green eyes widen, she could tell the blonde was trying to hold back a laugh. Beside her, a dark-haired man who was looking down at the floor, clearly smiling. _Trystane_. 

Myrcella picked up her trousers from the kitchen floor, tossing them to her. She pulled them on, tucking her hair behind her ears, “Myrcella, why are you home?” Lyanna asked through gritted teeth. 

“Trystane, meet my best friend, Lyanna,” Myrcella gestured at her before taking a sip of her wine. 

Trystane approached her, kissing both her cheeks, “It’s nice to meet you, Myrcella has talked about you a lot,” Lyanna smiled at him, trying not to think about how much he might have heard from her room just facing the kitchen. 

“Likewise, and yet she somehow failed to mention when we’d be meeting,” Lyanna side-eyed Myrcella who only shrugged. 

“Do you want some wine?” Myrcella offered her, leading Trystane into the living room. 

“Oh yeah, definitely,” Lyanna grabbed a glass from the shelf and went into the living room with them. 

Their heads all snapped to the sound of her door opening and Rickon coming out. “Lee, do you have any of my clothes here?” Lyanna couldn’t help but find the situation anything less than mortifying and hilarious, given that this was Trystane’s first impression of her. In any case, she wouldn’t mind, but here, Myrcella had all but admitted to being in love, so for Myrcella’s sake, it mattered. Lyanna turned on the sofa, watching Rickon tightening his belt, still very much shirtless given that she was wearing his clothes. 

“Just give me a minute,” she told him, placing her glass down and getting up, “Oh right, um Rickon this is Trystane, Myrcella’s boyfriend.” She gestured, “Trystane, this is uh… Rickon.” 

“Trys, Seven Hells,” Rickon said, smiling widely as he walked into the living room. 

Trystane stood up, “Gods, Rickon- what are the chances?” He said, embracing Rickon, their hug lasting a beat too long and confusing both her and Myrcella. 

“It’s been a while…” Rickon said, pulling away, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Yeah, it has,” Trystane nodded, “you look great.” He laughed. 

Rickon took a step back, draping his arm around Lyanna, she looked up at him, “You two know each other?” She surmised. 

“Oh yeah,” Rickon passed his knuckles over his jaw, “Trys and I… dated after high school.” He broke out of his thoughts, looking down at her, “So do you have any of my clothes here?” 

“Yeah, right let me give you some,” Lyanna pulled him away, “We’ll be right back, I still want some wine with you two.” She glanced at Myrcella who sat with her empty wine glass in her hands and her lips folded, holding back a smile and trying not to look her way.

Lyanna closed her door behind them, watching Rickon turn to her, passing a hand over his hair.

“I thought you never date?” Lyanna almost whispered, leaning against the door and staring up at him with her arms folded behind her. 

Rickon took a deep breath, walking closer to her, “I don’t.” He bit his lower lip as he stared down at her, his finger passing down the collar of the shirt she was wearing. 

She raised her eyebrows at him, sliding past him and going to her wardrobe. He followed her, throwing himself onto her bed as she went through her clothes. 

“Why did you two break up?” She asked nonchalantly, keeping a neutral tone. 

Rickon took a deep breath, sitting up on the edge of her bed. “Well… I was starting uni and I wasn’t interested in being exclusive.” She had expected as much, just not the guilty tone he had. 

“Oh okay,” she continued looking through her wardrobe, “you know with the no exclusivity thing or whatever… we- well you and I… we don’t use condoms.” She stared up at him as she crouched down to look through the lower shelves, hoping he would understand her train of thought.

He lifted himself off the bed, walking towards her as she stood up. “Do you really think I have time to think about fucking anyone but you?” He grinned at her, winding his arm around her waist. 

“I’m just making sure we’re staying safe here,” she explained. 

“Yeah of course,” he breathed in, kissing the top of her head. “I mean you’re still taking those shots aren’t you?” 

“Yeah, I went to the clinic last week.”

Lyanna pulled her tight trousers off and his shirt, she cringed at the sting along her thighs, “Are you alright?” Rickon asked, look of concern clouding his features. 

Lyanna laughed for a moment, “Yeah, I’m good,” she began, “just your- ugh. You didn’t shave, so I’ve got beard burn along my thighs.” She shook her head, pulling a t-shirt out of her wardrobe and pulling it on. 

Rickon began laughing, pulling her into his chest and hugging her tightly. She could still feel him laughing as he kissed the top of her head once more, “I’m sorry,” he told her. 

“It’s okay,” she breathed, her voice muffled by his chest. 

He pulled away, looking at her carefully, “That’s my t-shirt,” he noted. 

“Yeah, but I’m wearing it, I’ll give you another,” she bent down, going through her things, first pulling on a pair of loose shorts and pulling out clothes for him. 

“Woah, how many clothes have I left here?” Rickon stared at the t-shirt and joggers she handed him. 

“Ha, nice try.”

“You can keep them if you like,” he pulled the t-shirt on, taking his trousers off once more before stepping into the joggers. She watched him for a moment, his ringing phone broke her out of her gaze, both of them staring at the phone that vibrated against her nightstand. 

Rickon glared at the phone, looking back at her, “Sorry,” he apologised, stepping outside her window and onto the fire escape. 

Lyanna went for her own phone, trying to distract herself from the obviously tense conversation he was having. She couldn’t help but overhear his frustrated words. 

“I’m busy, I can’t talk.” Lyanna had rarely heard Rickon use such a harsh tone. “Yes. I’m aware it’s a Saturday night, and yes, I’m still busy.” Rickon sighed, his voice mellowing out slightly, “No, I don’t have classes in the weekends.” There was a short silence, where he just listened to the receiver. “Tomorrow?” He sounded completely deflated, “I think I can do tomorrow.” Lyanna walked to the window, sitting on the ledge with a cigarette between her lips, striking a match to light it before looking up at him. She watched him stare back at her with a restrained smile. “Can I call you in the morning?” His gaze never left her as the cold breeze passed over both of them, “Yeah, I’m busy. Yeah, me too, Bye.” 

Rickon pocketed his phone, looking away from her, letting out a nervous laugh. Lyanna exhaled her smoke, leaning against the windowpane in silence, just letting her eyes pass over him and the way he fidgetted. 

“How long were you here for?” He asked, glancing at her before looking back down at the street. 

“Not long… but you were talking loud so I couldn’t help but overhear,” she gave him room to say as much or as little as he wanted, not even offering him a cigarette, she knew he’d take it despite repeating that same line, _‘It lowers my performance, but once in awhile shouldn’t hurt’_. He had a swim meet coming up in the next few months, she wasn’t about to ruin that for him. 

“Oh yeah?” He leaned against the metal rail, rubbing his face in his palms. 

“Who was it?” Lyanna asked, stepping out onto the fire escape and taking a seat on one of the steps.

He turned around to look at her, deciding to take a seat beside her before saying anything, “It was just my mum, it doesn’t matter.” She watched him trace the tattoo that covered a small portion of his inner arm, lingering on the green eyes that lit up the silhouette of a wolf.

“Sounded like it mattered,” Lyanna asserted, “was she the one who called earlier?” 

“Uh, yeah, she was,” Rickon brushed his fingers through his hair, watching her for a moment. She felt goosebumps rise over her arms, if it was his stare or the gusts of air, she couldn’t tell. They sat in silence until she finished off her cigarette, stubbing it in the ashtray she left out there, she watched the way he straightened himself up and the creases between his eyebrows faded, “Should we go back in then?” He asked with a smile, all previous grief washed away as if there wasn’t a sombre cloud over them just seconds earlier. 

“Yeah, if you’re up for it,” she stared at him in disbelief, getting up from the step and climbing through the window. 

“Hey, Lee?” Lyanna looked at Rickon as she was halfway through the window. 

“Yeah?” 

“Your arse looks great in those shorts,” he leaned into her, his body towering over her. 

Lyanna held back a smile, pulling him into a kiss by his t-shirt, “I’m gonna lock you out here,” she joked, leaving his lips. 

“You wouldn’t dare, we still haven’t had dinner.” 

Lyanna buried her face in his chest, breathing in the distinct smell of him. “I didn’t even realise how hungry I am.” 

“Is it the right time to offer myself up yet?” 

She shook her head, maybe she was delirious from not eating, or still on a post-coital high, but she was sure she never wanted to let go of him. “I might take up that offer later,” she stepped into her room, Rickon following shortly after her. 

“Sweet of you to think of me as dessert, Lee,” Rickon pulled her into his arms, twirling her for a moment before swaying slightly. 

“Are we suddenly dancing?” Lyanna asked as she swayed with him. 

“Yes, we are,” he answered, spinning her so that her back was against his chest.

“What song are we dancing to?”

“A Summer Salt one,” he leaned down to kiss her neck. “It’s been stuck in my head all day, _‘nowadays you’re still my partner in crime, my cherry lime’_ ” 

Lyanna closed her eyes and leaned back against him, she could almost hear the tune in her head as she pulled his arms tighter around her waist and just savouring the feeling of his lips running down her neck. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you again to all of you for reading, I had my worries about this fic given how rare the ship is but I have a whole story in my head and so much to share.   
> comments and kudos are much appreciated :) xx  
> lots of love   
> [fineosaur](https://fineosaur.tumblr.com)


	3. there's nowhere else to go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title: blood pact - sea wolf

_late february_

_rickon_

Rickon had somehow managed to make a fifteen-minute drive turn into a thirty-minute one. 

He had left Lyanna’s flat in the morning in a hurry after sleeping in way too late, not even managing to properly kiss her before he bolted out with her coffee mug touched to her lips, dodging Myrcella’s cat, Malbec on the way to the door. 

Lunch with his mother shouldn’t have felt as daunting as he made it out to be in his head. But between showering, putting clothes on and driving to the restaurant, Rickon knew he was more than entitled to agonise over such a simple event. And after the full two hours he spent in his mother’s company, he knew he needed an outlet for all the rubbish she had let onto him. 

Catelyn Stark was never one to be impolite, no, everything she had told him, was said in the most courteous tone, which nevertheless sounded demeaning to his ears. From picking apart his unplanned career choices to putting down his hobbies, his mother had even found time to question his love life, as if there was any love involved.

He’d left with his ears burning as he tried not to have an outburst in the middle of some bougie restaurant as his mother sipped her mimosa. Once Rickon got into his car, he rolled down his windows and sped down the roads, knowing one person who would gladly listen to him vent about Catelyn Stark. 

“Gendry, where’s Arya?” The broad dark-haired man looked up at him from his glasses, staring at the papers in front of him as he leaned against the edge of the bar. 

He took his glasses off, letting them hang from his neck, “Arya!?” Gendry shouted for her, looking to the hallway that Rickon knew led to his office.

“Yeah?” He heard Arya call out from the distance. 

Gendry stared at Rickon, sighing and lifting the bar flap, “She’s in the office, go in,” Rickon walked through, patting Gendry on his shoulder before knocking on the office door. 

“Come in.” 

Rickon slid into the room, closing the door behind him and glancing at his older sister who laid back on the black leather loveseat in the corner of the room with a book in her hand, other holding a pen in her mouth. Arya sat up, taking her pen out of her mouth and staring at him with her dark eyebrows frowned. 

He leaned against the desk that sat on the other side of the room, papers scattered messily, barely showing the wood of the desk.

“You look like you’ve seen shit,” Arya stated, laying her book face-first on the coffee table in front of her, “what’s got you like this?” She asked, playing with the pen in her hand, clicking it every few seconds. 

“I just had lunch with mum…” Rickon stared down at his feet before looking at her. 

“Oof, sorry bud,” Arya shook her head, biting back a smile. 

Rickon folded his arms against his chest and glared at her, still leaning against the desk, trying not to let himself spiral with the things that were going through his mind or at the name Arya often used for him. 

“Okay, wow, serious then,” Arya adjusted herself on the sofa, folding her legs under herself and turning to him, “what happened?” 

He let out a breath, uncrossing his arms and fiddling with the penholder on the desk, not knowing where to begin.

“Come,” Arya got up, heading out of the office. He stayed in place until she peeked back in through the door, “ _ come _ ,” she gestured, “we need drinks if we’re gonna continue this conversation and thankfully we’re in a pub.” 

Rickon followed after Arya, deciding that a beer would most certainly help in a situation like this one. 

He watched Arya kiss Gendry’s cheek, making him glance from his papers for a moment to smile as she walked to one of the small fridges that lined the bottom of the bar, crouching down and pulling out two amber bottles. Grenn silently used his bottle opener on the bottles in her hands, tossing the caps in the bin before going back to his conversation with Pyp. 

It was when he had the cold glass bottle against his lips when he felt like maybe the words could tumble out of his mouth properly, maybe he’d make sense to someone other than the voice inside his head.

“I don’t know, Arya, I’m just tired of it,” Rickon took a big gulp of his beer before Arya spoke. 

“Of what exactly,” she asked, sitting on the stool Gendry brought out for her and leaning against an empty shelf, “I, more than anyone, understand being fed up with mum, but what did she say exactly?” 

“Mum touched upon almost every topic,” Rickon chuckled, it was always levity he turned to in moments like this. “She’s honestly great at multitasking I often wonder how she missed on so much of my childhood.” 

Arya laughed, shaking her head at him, “Start from the beginning,” she told him, nudging Gendry to pass the peanuts.

“Did you know that Robb and Theon are adopting?” He deflected, though it was the first thing his mother had brought up to him. 

“Oh yeah, mum told me, apparently being in a long term relationship means I get the ‘when are you getting married and having kids?’ tone,” Arya nudged Gendry again this time to have him laugh off her obvious implications. Rickon saw the grin that lingered on his face as he went back to scribbling on whatever papers were in front of him. 

“Yeah, good for them. Only she used this moment to tell me she needs me to get my life sorted out before it’s finalised because she won’t have time to sort it out for me when that happens,” Rickon felt his voice rising, tone irate, yet did nothing to dilute it. Arya opened her mouth to speak but he stopped her, “To sort my life out, Arya.” He repeated angrily. “I understand that I’m not quite there yet but I hardly think my life is so out of control that it needs to be sorted out.” 

Rickon leaned against the edge of the counter, arm on the bar flap as he threw his head back for a moment before meeting Arya’s eyes. 

“I for one do not think there’s anything to be sorted out,” Arya began, “you’re figuring things out and that’s okay but your life is hardly in shambles.”

“I can at least comfortably say that much, yeah, but…” Rickon found himself sighing for probably the hundredth time that day, “but I can’t say I’m figuring anything out.” 

“You will though… eventually,” Arya brought her legs up, crossing them under herself on the stool. “What else did she say?” 

“She offered me a job after I graduate.” 

Arya bit her lip, eyes visibly cringing at his words. “A job at the firm? Doing what?” She asked, a clear crease between her eyebrows. 

“I don’t fucking know, I refused to listen!” Rickon felt his face growing hot as his anger bubbled, “I’m not going to sit around by some desk just so I can know I safely have a job till the day I drop into my grave.” 

Arya stared back at him clearly struck by his words, “What do you want to do then?” She asked with full sincerity. 

“I dunno,” he sipped his beer, “I don’t know anything at this point, I’m probably fucking useless.” 

“Hey, stop, you have options okay, there’s no dead end, not for anyone,” Arya was determined to stop his nosedive into his pit of wallows. 

“I feel like I’m going crazy,” he told her, rubbing his neck before taking a deep breath, “It’s like every time I meet her, I’m so aware of the fact that I’m most likely going insane. Like nothing I do matters because there’s no way I’m going to end up like any of you.” 

“Rickon… I get the crazy thing, I fucking left this place because I felt that to my core, but I don’t understand what you’re trying to say with ending up like us.” 

“All of you, Robb, Sansa, You, Bran, even Jon, each one of you has done something significant and I’m just here doing what?” Rickon felt his voice grow smaller. He took the bowl of peanuts from Arya, placing them beside him and taking a handful. 

“You can’t act like you’re incompetent,” he was ready to defy her statement but she raised her eyebrows, “that’s such shit, you’re a great swimmer and you’ve got your photography.” Rickon wasn’t ready for how defensive she’d get over his self-deprecation so he refused to meet her eyes. 

“Will you let me be miserable for just a moment?” 

“No?”

Rickon sighed again, letting the silence permeate between them before bringing up his last bone to pick, “She tried suggesting people I should date as well.” 

“She did not!” Arya set her beer aside, laughing. “But she definitely would.” 

“She mentioned both Tom  _ and _ Shireen, asking if there was  _ ‘anything there?’ _ … both of them, Arya, both of my best friends.” 

Gendry chuckled beside them, both turning their heads to watch him, “Sorry it’s just, both of them are closely related to me, it’s just funny to have your mother suggest those two,” he said, gesturing with his pen in his hand. 

Rickon waved off Gendry’s comment, getting back to his point, “I pretended I was dating someone just to get her to stop,” he saw Gendry’s confusion once more,

“Pretended? Aren’t you dating Lyanna?” Gendry asked him, his papers forgotten and the glasses on his nose were now hanging folded on the chain around his neck. 

Rickon felt a lump in his throat at Gendry’s question. He shook his head, tipping back his bottle to finish it off, “No, no, of course not, no.” He put his bottle on the counter and stretched his arms over his head feeling his resentment grow. He thought about his situation for a moment, giving up on the whole thing. “You know what? I don’t care! I don’t care… about any of it!” He saw Arya just sigh at him, shaking her head as she thought of something to say. 

“You know what- I’m about to say it, I don’t care that you broke your elbow,” Pyp added laughing afterwards, bringing everyone’s attention to him rather than Rickon. 

“Pyp, I swear to all the gods... I will throw this bottle at you.” Rickon gestured his empty beer at him, hearing both Arya and Grenn laugh as Gendry still looked confused.

Rickon watched the way Grenn elbowed Pyp, promptly wrapping his arms around him and kissing him. He watched as they went into the storage room with one of Gendry’s papers, wondering how everyone else had it all together but him. 

Rickon cleared his throat, “I’m just gonna use the washroom,” he put the empty bottle back on the counter, lifting the bar flap, eyes darting back at Gendry who laughed at something Arya said but himself didn’t hear. 

He found himself bumping into someone, holding onto them before realising who it was. Maybe it was because he was having a bad day, but seeing her made everything suddenly feel light, dark cloud no longer around to rain down on him. 

“Lee?” He registered her wide eyes, remembering every loud, aggravated word he had let slip from his lips just moments ago,  _ she wasn’t mean to be here. _ “You don’t work on Sundays.”

“Yeah, but I’ve been picking up some extra shifts,” Lyanna said, with his hands still holding her upper arms, she reached out passing her hand along his chest, with it he felt the tension in his body dissipate, then he remembered. 

“How long- uh where’ve you been?” Rickon let go of her, shaking his head, “Actually, leave it, I just need to-“ he didn’t even bother finishing his sentence before making his way straight to the men’s washroom. 

Rickon locked the door behind him, opening the tap. The sound of the water alone seemed to calm him down, all the sudden distress weighing heavy on him. He let the cool water run against his hands before washing his face. 

It was completely irrational, for him to avoid her as such. But he wasn’t ready to know if she had heard him more or less give every reason why he was someone completely inept with serious issues with his mother. 

He dried off his face, staring at himself in the mirror for a moment, finding it inane to be so fixed about something such as this. But no matter what, he still felt a pit in his stomach at the thought of Lyanna hearing a word he had said.

His exit from the washroom was impeded by her, a hand firmly grasping his shirt, pulling him away from the door, gaze never leaving his. 

“Lee, what are you doing?” Rickon had no energy to sound anything other than exasperated. 

“Just shut up for a moment- will you?” Lyanna told him firmly, loosening her grasp on him, allowing her hand to trail down the row of buttons on his shirt. 

“Why- what are you?” 

Lyanna wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down and hugging him tightly, “Stop fucking running away and keep quiet,” she told him, he stopped struggling, instead allowing himself to wrap his arms around her waist and lean down into her embrace. He breathed her in, the faint smell of the perfume she always wore against her neck, the warmth of her body against his. 

His anger managed to seep away but remain completely intact within him, in an entirely different way. Rickon closed his eyes, holding onto her tightly and breathing deeply. His irascibility directed him to her.

Lyanna pulled away slowly, letting her hands come to rest against his chest. She stared at him, waiting a moment before letting her words tumble out. 

“Are you okay?” 

Rickon laughed the question off, feeling his anger skirt the surface once more. “I’m fine,” he backed himself into the wall. 

“I heard your rant, Rickon, I’m not daft. You can talk to me.” 

He couldn’t tell which bit of her sentence struck him, maybe it was because she’d heard him, even when he mentioned feeling utterly useless, insane and his dismissal of them, whatever their relationship was. 

“Why would I bloody talk?” His anger oozed out of his words, in his tone, it ran through his whole body, “All we do is fuck, remember? We don’t fuckin’ talk.” It was a lie, but it felt good to say, he knew it would get her. And by the way, her jaw clenched at his words, he knew it had.

Lyanna refused to step down, her hands cupped his jaw as he tried to look away from her, “Then fucking tell me what would make you feel better,” he could hear the anger laced in her words at his snub. 

He stared down at her pulse quickening at the look in her eyes, layer of fury coating her brown eyes. Rickon pulled her by the back of her neck, kissing her rougher than he’d ever done before. He stepped with her, cornering her into a wall, completely unrestrained as he kissed her.  _ What was it about lust and anger that moulded them together so perfectly? _

Lyanna responded back tugging his hair as his tongue met hers. Rickon groaned against her lips, his hands trailing down her body to cup her arse. He took her by the thigh wrapping her leg around his waist as he deepened their kiss. 

His whole body reacted to her, grinding against her, pushing her harder against the wall. When he pulled away, he was sure he had bitten her lip hard enough to draw blood. 

Rickon took a step back, passing both his hands through his hair. Lyanna leaned back against the wall, heaving as she stared back at him, she brought her fingers to her lips. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologised, his anger forgotten, “I’m sorry, Lee, I had a bad day… I just- I shouldn’t.” Rickon liked to think his anger was focused on his mother, but he knew even Lyanna was a source for his anger, or more likely himself. It was clearer each day that his anger was his own, for letting himself think he could be around her for so long and not expect to feel an ounce of anything but lust for her. He felt so much more, and with time he was slowly realising that he’d gotten himself into a situation that was anything other than precarious. He sighed, reaching out to her before deciding against it and taking a step back. “I should get going.” 

Rickon left Lyanna with her back to the wall, still seemingly at a loss for words. He tucked his hands in his pockets and walked straight for the door, not even bothering to stop at the sound of Arya’s voice calling out to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for your brilliant comments! i never really expected anyone to care about these two so the few of you who do- thank you !  
> i've got the next few chapters more or less written with some tweaking needed so updates will be pretty regular.   
> lots of love,   
> [fineosaur](https://fineosaur.tumblr.com), come say hi!


	4. and now i'm waking up with you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> between getting ready to visit Bear Island, Lyanna and Rickon have a talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from: jupiter - the marías

__

_mid march_

_lyanna_

Lyanna hadn’t heard from him in almost two weeks.

She let it slide, there were other things to focus on, studying, prolonged packing, working extra hours. Lyanna pretended it didn’t bother her the slightest and on a Friday night, when she received a message from his number, she tried to tell herself that her heart skipped a beat for reasons entirely separate to him.

_ rickon: hey _

_ rickon: i’m sorry i’ve been MIA _

_ rickon: are you home?  _

Lyanna lifted her phone off her desk, staring at her lock screen. She twirled her pen between her fingers, torn between responding immediately and just getting back to her books. 

_ lyanna: hi. _

_ lyanna: yeah, i’m home. studying though :(.  _

She watched the bubble appear as he typed, disappearing shortly after. Lyanna stared at her phone, their iMessage chat opened as she waited for a reply. Five minutes later, his message finally came in, all semblance of her pretending to get back to studying was forgotten. 

_ rickon: i miss you _

_ rickon: can i see you? _

_ lyanna: of course. _

Lyanna dropped her pen on her desk, leaning back in her chair, watching as her screen slowly dimmed and turned off. Rickon didn’t follow up with letting her know when he wanted to see her, if he was turning up now, at 10 PM or the next morning. She stared at the mug on her desk, forgotten, half-drunk coffee with a ring underneath it that marked the wood. 

Lyanna got up, packing up the clothes she had folded and packed and unpacked a dozen times in apprehension for her trip back home. She’d convinced herself that packing early would ease the disquiet feeling in her chest, but when that didn’t help, she’d empty the suitcase that sat in the corner of her room, stuffing everything back into her wardrobe and kicking the small suitcase aside, only to repack once more. 

Before leaving her room, she took her coffee mug with her and walked to the kitchen, turning on the coffee machine and emptying her mug in the sink. 

“Have you eaten yet?” Myrcella called out from her spot on the couch, staring at her computer with a glass of wine in her hand. 

“No… I suppose not,” Lyanna replied, taking a bowl and filling it with the pasta that sat on the table, “When did you make this, it’s incredible.” Lyanna said after taking a forkful. 

“You’re saying that cause you’re starving,” Myrcella looked back at her, “though it was pretty good.” 

Lyanna ate half the bowl standing by the coffee maker, pouring out a cup once it was done. 

“Thanks for the food, I’m gonna continue studying.” 

Shutting the door behind her, Lyanna sat at her desk once more, staring at the post-its and other memos that littered her wall. Her books laid open but she couldn’t bring herself to concentrate on anything. She stared at her phone, half expecting it to light up, instead, after awhile, Myrcella called out to her. 

“Lyanna! The door!” Lyanna left her room, putting her bowl in the sink first before walking to the door. 

“You know, you are closer to the door,” Lyanna remarked. 

“Yeah but I’m busy, Lya, and I’m not expecting anyone.” 

“Who says I am?” Lyanna retorted, undoing the chain lock and opening the door. 

Rickon stared at her through wide blue eyes, both his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans. His freckled arms were on full display in the thin t-shirt he wore,  _ he looked cold _ . 

“Lee…” He breathed, a grin rising to his face as he shrugged his shoulder slightly.

Lyanna left the door opened, walking into the kitchen, trying not to stare at him for too long, trying not to think about the fact that she felt even the slightest irritation towards him for ignoring her for so long. “Are you hungry?” She asked instead, pulling out two beers from the fridge as he took an olive out of the bowl of pasta. 

“Not really, no,” he said, taking the opened bottle she handed him. He leaned against the sink counter, staring at her, “I like your t-shirt.” Rickon gestured at her with his bottle. 

She looked down at herself, in her sleep shorts and one of his t-shirts he had told her she could have, “It was a gift,” Lyanna said, lips curving into a small smile. There was a tension overlapping between them, one that never quite existed between them. 

“Look, I-“ Rickon set his bottle down, walking closer to her, “I’m sorry... for how I acted at the pub that night.” 

Lyanna stared up at him, the sincerity that flickered in his blue irises, “You don’t have to apologise, Rickon. I can handle you,” she watched the way he straightened his back at her words.

“I know, I just need to…” He explained, reaching for her hand but stopping himself, “I took my anger out on you and I shouldn’t have said any of that stuff… or been that rough with you.” Rickon bit his lip, waiting for her answer. 

Lyanna felt her stomach flip at his mention of that particular kiss. She knew he did it out of anger but it exhilarated her to just think of. She wondered about the restraint he exercised around her but decided against mentioning it. 

“I can handle you, Rickon,” she repeated, placing her hand against his chest and watching the way his eyes took her in, darting down to her lips as he placed his hand over hers.

“I really want to kiss you,” Rickon whispered, leaning down closer to her. 

“Myrcella’s right there,” Lyanna looked over to the sofa, where Myrcella sat with her headphones on.

“Do I have to drag you to your room?” Rickon pulled her closer by her arm.

“Probably.”

Rickon dragged her by her arm,“ Come on then,” closing her door behind them and pulling her into his arms. “I’ve missed you, Lee.” 

He brushed his thumb over her cheek, smiling down at her, “So you’ve said,” she remarked, wrapping her arms around his waist. 

Rickon put his lips on hers, nothing else mattered from that point on, only the feeling of his lips meeting hers. Lyanna tilted her head back, her hands slipping under his t-shirt as their tongues danced alongside one another. 

This kiss was different to their last one; this one was unrushed, pent up in an entirely different way to the last, this one was like a slow love song on a rainy summer afternoon. Either way, it left her with want, just as the last one had.

He hoisted her onto his hips, walking the two of them to the bed, never leaving her lips. Lyanna felt the bed under her and slowly took her hair out of its braid, watching the smile that graced his lips before he kissed her again. 

When her hands slid under his t-shirt, trailing up his back, Rickon pulled away to take his t-shirt off, his eyes catching on something behind her as he threw it aside. 

She watched his face fall, eyes wandering before they met hers again, “Are you going somewhere?” He asked, sitting back, still between her legs. 

Lyanna propped herself up on her elbows, glancing over her shoulder at her opened suitcase, looking back at him, “Yeah, I’m going home for the holidays,” she watched him nod, biting on his lip. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She heard his tone, he added a breathless laugh after each question to mask that drop, the one that laced her with guilt. 

“I must’ve forgotten…” Lyanna lied, sitting up with her legs still wrapped around him, “My flight’s on Monday.” 

Rickon’s gaze lingered on her, leaning forward to press his lips to hers, pulling away with a restrained smile. He tucked her hair behind her ear, face softening again, “How long will you be gone for?” He asked with a smile. 

“About three weeks.” 

“Ah, alright.” 

Rickon tipped her back onto the bed, kissing her harder than before.

* * *

Rickon sat back against the headboard as she walked to her desk, closing her laptop and reaching for her coffee; it was lukewarm but she drank it anyway, coming back to sit on the bed, facing him. 

“When did you make coffee?” 

Lyanna looked down at him, leaning against his still jean-clad leg, “Before you came. I was studying, remember?” She answered, balancing her mug on his stomach, knowing the bottom of the mug was most definitely wet. “Do you want some?” 

“No, I think I have enough from what you’ve spilt on me,” Rickon laughed, “how are you drinking it when it’s cold?” 

“It’s not cold,” she drank after shaking her head, “it’s only tepid.” 

“Tepid  _ is _ cold when it comes to coffee.”

Lyanna only smiled, softly laughing at him and finishing off her coffee. Rickon took the mug out of her hands and placed it on the nightstand beside him, smiling at her. She lifted herself up, placing herself on his lap. 

Rickon leaned back against the pillows, staring up at her, his hands slowly travelling up her body. Lyanna backed herself up on her knees, prying his hands off of her as she moved out of reach, deftly undoing his jeans and pulling them off his legs. She smiled at the stupid smiley face tattoo on his knee, throwing his jeans aside. 

“Lee, what are you doing?” 

Lyanna stared down at him, pulling her hair up into a ponytail, “What does it look like I’m doing?” She retorted, sliding her hand up his thigh. 

“Lee…”

She smirked at his shock, the way he stared at her, jaw slack in anticipation for her next move. Lyanna gripped the base of his cock, hearing his breathless groan, “Yeah?” She stroked him upwards, slowly. Rickon threw his head back, both his hands going into his hair. “Would you like me to stop?” Lyanna asked, levelling herself with his length, staring up at him. 

Rickon’s gaze met hers, she watched him swallow hard, taking a moment to reflect on what she was asking him, “Gods, no, never stop,” he blurted, as soon as he did, her tongue met the base of his cock, travelling upwards. 

He was never so loud as when she went down on him, endless praise and guttural moans filled her ears as she took him into her mouth. 

She started off slow, taking only the tip of his cock in before pulling him out and swirling her tongue around the head. Rickon’s hands slowly made their way into her hair, pushing any stray hairs back before wrapping his fingers around the ponytail, his grip growing tighter with every centimetre she took him further. 

Lyanna could still feel the restraint in him but she knew it was slowly breaking away as he lifted his hips off the bed to meet her. She felt her hair get looser as his fingers weaved through her hair, tugging. 

She looked up at him, holding him by the base of his cock as she took him further down her throat. His whole body was rigid, she could see the flex of his neck at he threw his head back hard against her pillow, a reddish tint over his pale skin, freckles still vibrant as ever. 

Lyanna moaned, adjusting her jaw as she took all of him in, rewarding her with the most sinful groan she’d heard. She felt it down her spine, in her core and all the way in her throbbing cunt. She wanted more than ever to just take him right there, but then she wouldn’t get to stare up at him, head thrown back in ecstasy brought on by her, and her alone. 

Glancing up at him every now and then, Lyanna couldn’t help but already begin to mourn the routine they had orbiting around one another. It made her regret letting him go almost two weeks without reaching out to him, even if she was to just listen to him talk about whatever it was that was eating him up inside. 

Lyanna pulled him out of her mouth, pumping his cock in her palm, passing her thumb over his head. Rickon opened his eyes to watch her, her hair slowly falling out of his grip. Slipping her hand down to the base of his cock once more, Lyanna took him back into her mouth, sliding his length down her throat in one go, with the help of the buck of his hip and the way he held onto her head. 

“Fuck, don’t stop. I’m gonna come,” Rickon’s voice was hoarse, sending sparks throughout her body with every sound uttered from him. 

Pulling him out almost completely, Lyanna laid him on her tongue, still stroking him with one hand, slowly swallowing down his come, almost certain that her hair had fallen out of its hair tie and was completely held up by his hands. 

Lyanna licked the tip of his cock, sitting up on her knees and stretching out her back, wiping the corners of her mouth. She saw the lazy way his eyes fixed on her, smile on his lips as he watched her. 

She began kissing up his body, soft trail of kisses, avoiding his tattoo but lingering on his abdomen and chest until she buried her face in the crook of his neck, letting her body lie on top of his. 

Rickon slowly wound his arms around her waist, crossing his hands and pulling her tighter against him. He kissed the top of her head, breathing steadying as they laid in silence. 

She breathed him in deeply, the distinct smell of him, soap, earthy aftershave and just a hint of chlorine. His fingers trailed up her spine slowly. Lyanna lifted her head up, folding her arms under her chin and staring up at him. His fingers continued up her body, following the length of her arm and taking one of her hands in his.

“I’m going to miss you,” Rickon told her, intertwining their fingers, she held onto his hand before bringing her fingers down his palm. 

“I’m just going to miss your hands,” she joked, bringing his knuckles to her lips and raising her brow at him. 

Rickon laughed softly his eyes glazing over as he stared at her, “They’re all yours,” he said, gaze never leaving hers. 

Lyanna didn’t find it in herself to answer him, only smiling and resting her head on his chest, listening to the thrum of his heart under her ear. 

“I think your phone’s ringing,” Rickon’s voice was smooth, she almost didn’t want to get up when she noticed that her screen was lighting up from where it was on her desk. 

Lyanna lifted her head off his chest, getting up from the bed to see her sister’s number calling her. She sighed, answering the call, coming back to lay beside Rickon. 

“Yes, Jory?” She answered into the phone. Rickon stared at her, his fingers trailing up and down her chest. 

_ “What, no hello?” _ Jorelle remarked, laughing at her own joke.  _ “I’ve been calling you so many times.”  _

“Clearly I was busy. Can’t you text?” Rickon lifted himself up from the bed going on his knees over her, kissing down her body. She smiled at his cheek. 

_ “Ah, busy. What are you doing?”  _

“Get to the point, what’s wrong?” Lyanna bit her lip, trying not to laugh as Rickon kissed down her body. 

_ “Can you find a way to get to my place on Monday morning? We can take a cab to the airport together.”  _

Lyanna thought for a moment, eyes meeting Rickon’s darkened blue ones as he dipped between her legs, tongue grazing her clit. She took a sharp inhale. “Yeah, yeah, I can-“ Lyanna held her phone away from her face for a moment to address the man between her legs. “Fuck, really?” She laughed, “I’m on the phone.” 

“I can see that,” he pulled away to answer her, sucking down on her clit once more. 

Lyanna moaned, readjusting her voice before bringing her phone back to her ear. “Yeah, I’ll figure it out.” 

_ “Are you with someone?” _ Jorelle asked Lyanna could hear the smirk that was likely plastered on her sister’s face. 

“Yeah, I’ll see you Monday, Jory.” Lyanna cut the call, tossing her phone to the other side of the bed, immediately burying her fingers in Rickon’s hair. “Gods, you’re full of shit,” she breathed, arching her back on the bed. 

* * *

She could feel his shallow breaths against her stomach, wondering if he had fallen asleep. 

Despite a giving her an apology, Rickon hadn’t actually said anything about that night. Lyanna could tell, even when bringing her hands down to his shoulders, rubbing gently, that he still had a lot on his mind.

“What’s been going on, Rickon?” His head rested on her stomach as she passed her fingers through his auburn curls. 

“Hmm?” His response resonated through her body. He turned his head to kiss her stomach before looking back up at her. 

“I heard… what you said in the pub that night and then you kissed me like that and I don’t hear from you in almost two weeks?” Lyanna felt relentless in her pursuit for answers but she was determined to know the reason for his distance. They had talked about many things in their time together. She’d learned many things about him over the span of that one year, but there was always just one missing piece, the one he guarded so closely to himself. 

“I’m sorry about that kiss,” he apologised, looking up at her, hand going up her side. 

“It’s okay, it was great wank material,” she joked, smiling at him. She watched Rickon’s eyebrows rise in amusement. “It was a hot kiss, Rickon, but stop deflecting, talk to me.” Lyanna pushed his curls back from his forehead, watching his eyes close for a moment as her fingers brushed against his skin. 

Rickon lifted himself up, lying back against the pillow beside her. He glanced at her as he folded his arm under his head. His silence was pensive. 

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” 

He stared at her in indecision.

“But I’m here to listen, and I care about you,” Lyanna watched as he turned his head, staring at the ceiling as he shifted on her bed. 

“Look,” Rickon started, his eyes wandering as he spoke. “I’m not someone who cares what people think of me, if someone sees me as this useless rich kid, I’m fine with that, as long as I know there’s more to me than that... but it’s different with you, okay? You heard all of that shit and it just- it was embarrassing cause it makes me sound like some spoilt prat who is being offered a job and a place to live, straight out of uni and refuses it for no reason whatsoever.” 

Rickon turned his head over to look at her once more, worry lining his features. “Rickon, I would never think that of you.” Lyanna reached out to him, moving closer to him as she let her fingers trace his jaw. “Nothing could ever make me think you’re any of that.”

Rickon took a moment, eyes darting down her face. He let a breath out of relief, but she could still see him struggling to talk, to decide which words wouldn’t completely vilify himself. 

Lyanna realised his hesitation. “What is it about your mother that makes her get under your skin so much?” She asked.

Rickon smiled, it looked almost out of habit. “What about her doesn’t?” His tone was dismissive for just a moment. “It’s stupid okay, but that’s how it is. She says things, trying to meddle in my life, and it gets on my nerves cause I just think about how much she just wasn’t there when I actually needed her to. After my dad, it just-“ He exhaled, shaking his head. 

Lyanna wanted to ask him about his father. She would never bring it up on her own. She knew it had to be a sensitive subject if he never mentioned it. She had come to terms with not having a father very early on in her life where she was able to weave jokes out of the fact. But for him, it seemed like a sore spot, much more so than it was for her. 

“What happened?” She asked quietly.

Rickon stared at her, like a deer caught in headlights as if he’d never imagined she would actually ask. He looked up at the ceiling again, eyebrows frowning as he puts on a smile in thought. 

”Ha- he died when I was ten and apparently I don’t know how to get over it.” His laughter at himself lacked mirth. Rickon rubbed his palm along his jaw. “I’m done grieving, I am, I had my outbursts when I was a teen but I’ve grown up. I miss him, I do, but I actually am past it... but I can’t help but still get winded up when my mum thinks she knows anything about my life.”

Lyanna saw the way he strained himself just by revealing himself to her. As if he still had to make excuses to seem like he wasn’t all over the place. “It’s not something you just get over or force yourself to get over, Rickon, you don’t have to have yourself all pieced together at all times. And if you feel like she wasn’t there when you needed her, there’s a reason. You were young and you felt that way, don’t just invalidate yourself over it.” She spoke softly, both of them still in a haze.

Rickon considered her words as if every sentence had the ability to tug at his heart. “It’s just- she sees me, and she sees someone who hasn’t done anything, whereas all of my brothers and sisters are so fuckin’ accomplished that sometimes it’s hard to remember that I’m not actually useless.”

“I don’t think you could ever be useless” she brought her hand to his chest, resting her chin on it. “I’ll gladly remind you of the fact that you aren’t.”

“How are you listening to any of this and not completely put off by me?” Rickon’s question was genuine. It broke her a little, to think that he would expect anyone to lose interest in him just because he showed one less than favourable emotion.

“Stop. You don’t have to always be this happy, bubbly person. Not with me,” she told him, watching as his adam’s apple bobbed, clenching his jaw. 

Lyanna tilted her head, kissing his chest, letting her fingers trace circles on his skin. He still looked like he had a lot of things left unsaid, thoughts still swarming in his head, but she didn’t pry any further, seeing how much it had taken him just to open up a little. 

“How do you do it, Lee?” 

“Do what?” 

“Take on everything and just seem so well adjusted doing it?” His hand caressed her head as he asked her.

“I’m not well adjusted, not in the slightest,” Lyanna laughed, unable to even begin to explain to herself how jumbled her mind felt for the longest time. She smiled at him instead, enjoying the feeling of his hands in her long hair. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?” His eyes strayed from hers before his cerulean gaze fixed on her once more. 

“I tried.” Lyanna sighed, running her palm up his chest. “We each had things going on, it just didn’t feel like the right time to bring it up… I didn’t even want to think about going back home until it was actually looming over me.” 

“It’s okay,” he told her, holding her hand. “Why don’t you want to go back then?” 

There were many answers to his question. She could tell him about how going to Bear Island would just make the fact that she’d moving back permanently after graduation all the more evident. She could complain about so many things that continued to flutter in and out of her mind on a daily, things that gave her a growing headache. 

“I do… I’m excited to see my sisters, my nephew and niece, even my mother,” Lyanna paused, “but I know it’s going to be draining. My mum doesn’t actually know what rest is.” 

Rickon pushed her hair back, smiling at her, “If you need, I’ll swim there if things get too tiring,” He laughed as she shoved his hand away at his joke. 

“If you ever do come to Bear Island I’d take you to see the lights,” Lyanna told him, despite her reluctance to return home, she knew the beauty the Island held, no matter how remote. “That is before my mum and sisters eat you alive.” 

Rickon beamed, his hands continued wandering down her body. “Are you offering to take me with you someday?” Lyanna realised her mistake, trying not to let her face fall at his assumption. 

“Someday.” 

_ Would someday ever come?  _

Rickon leaned down to kiss her, only to have her pull away. “I’m just going to finish up this unit I had to go over, then I’m all yours,” she said, picking up his t-shirt and walking to her desk. 

“Sounds good,” he answered, staring back at her, his face clouded with thoughts. 

“Do you think you could pass me my phone please?” Lyanna opened up her laptop, sitting cross-legged in her chair. She twisted her hair, feeling Rickon set her phone in her hand before beginning to braid her hair. “What are you doing?” Lyanna asked, giggling at the way his fingers grazed the back of her neck. 

“Keep still,” he tied off her braid, kissing her properly before lying back on her bed. Lyanna watched him, focused on his phone, an enigmatic silence shielding him from her. 

“Are you busy on Monday?” Rickon looked up at her when hearing her voice. 

“No, I don’t think so,” he replied, rubbing his hand along his jaw. “Why?” 

“Can you please drop me at Jory’s Monday morning?” 

“Of course,” he said, without skipping a beat. “Isn’t your flight on Monday?” 

“Yeah, it’s in the afternoon, Jory and I will be taking a cab to the airport,” Lyanna sat backwards on her chair to face him. “She wants me to bring my stuff in the morning, and I want to spend time with you, so it works out.” 

“You want me to stay the weekend?” Rickon grinned, folding his arms behind his head and stretching his body.  _ He knew what he was doing.  _

“Yes,” she breathed in sharply, “but I need to finish this chapter and you need to stop doing that.” 

“Doing what?” Rickon smirked. 

Lyanna bit her lip, turning back to her desk. “I’m ignoring you until I’m done with this else I’ll never finish.” 

She took her phone, sending a message to her sister’s contact. 

_ lyanna: i got a ride. see you monday morning.  _

_ jory: ok see u _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!  
> lots of love,  
> [fineosaur](https://fineosaur-writes.tumblr.com)  
> [to the few of you that do read this, i love you 🥰🥺]


	5. come, babe, let love have this evenin'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from : verses - tamino

_mid march_

_rickon_

Spring was often still cold in the North. And most nights it still snowed, laying an ivory blanket on the buildings and roads, there was often a restful silence that followed. But this time, it hadn’t snowed in a few weeks; there was a bittersweet warmth that lingered, announcing a new phase in life. One which he knew not what to expect of. 

His eyes wandered as his legs moved restlessly as he struggled to sit back and remain motionless. 

When Lyanna slid off of her bed, pulling her t-shirt on and twisting her hair into a bun. She wordlessly took a seat at her desk once more, sitting on her chair with one leg folded under her and the other set on the ground. Rickon watched as she opened up her books, pen in hand as she started scribbling down in a notebook. After a while she opened up her laptop as well, hearing her sigh and drop her head in her hands. 

Rickon knew she’d been trying to squeeze in as much studying as she could before leaving. But he also knew that she was wearing herself thin with it, between spending time with him and her books, Lyanna barely seemed to give herself a moment to breathe. Even taking on extra shifts at Gendry’s pub. 

Rickon was glad to be with her, given the week and a half he’d been away from her. He saw the time he had alone as a way for him to deal with his own mortification as well as the things that had swum up to the surface due to a simple conversation over lunch with his mother. 

But the way Lyanna had listened and spoken to him the night before made him wish he had shown up a week earlier, because maybe then he wouldn’t have only a weekend with her, but a whole week. It stuck with him at every moment, a simple few words had left him wondering what he was doing with her when he knew very well how he felt. 

Rickon got up from where he was laying, leaving his phone on the bed as he slid into his boxers and walked towards her. He kissed the top of her head, asking if she wanted something to eat. 

“I could probably use some coffee,” Lyanna answered, flipping to the next page of her notebook, “I’m so fucking done with this, I feel like I need some air or a cigarette or both?” He leaned against the back of her chair, smiling at her small rant, hearing her sigh once more. 

Lyanna tilted her head back, staring up at him, Rickon leaned down to kiss her forehead before whisking her out of her chair. He would always try to get her mind off things if she asked, but she never did, she kept any if not all her troubles close to her, giving her the illusion of someone almost entirely clear-headed.

“Rickon,” she whined, not wanting to get up. 

“Put your clothes on,” he told her, pulling his jeans on before looking around the room for his t-shirt. 

“Why?” Lyanna stood her ground, watching him. 

“I’m taking you out of this room,” Rickon said, tossing her trousers at her, “fresh air and all that.” He gesticulated, finally pulling on his t-shirt. 

“It’s like 5 am,” she said, glancing at the clock on her nightstand. 

“We’ll have to stop by my dorm first,” he pocketed his phone, patting down his pockets for his keys, completely ignoring her arguments. 

She shook her head, pulling her clothes on and tying her hair up again, this time into a ponytail. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going.” 

“Trust me?” He asked, offering his hand to her.

“Yeah, always,” she laughed, pulling her clothes on. 

* * *

It was still dark out when they’d driven to down to Widow’s Watch. There was an easy silence between them as they enjoyed the breeze coming through the opened windows, driving on empty roads. 

His car drove smoothly, the roads were neither slippery nor covered in snow, the weather was seemingly at a perfect halt. Everything was frozen, but not in the way the North often was, more in a matter of time. Which worked in his favour, since just for now, in her presence, he would have liked time to stand still. 

Music and wind filled the car, a veil falling over them, it felt like an interlude between all their time together and a pivotal moment that he’d felt coming for a while. And he knew once she returned that things were likely to change, or so he’d told himself he would make them change. 

_the patterns of life, set the grim parts glowing, we’ll all stay frozen in time, but we'll be back one day._

“Gods, it’s cold,” Lyanna wrapped her arms around herself, wind wisping through the stray strands of hair that framed her face. He saw the goosebumps that rose on her arms as she tried to warm herself up.

“Just wait,” he told her, looking up from his camera and walking to the back of his car.

He opened the boot with one hand, easily finding the green jumper he kept in there.

“Here,” Rickon handed her the jumper, going back to looking through his last shoots. _He hadn’t given any time to his photography in the last year._

“Why do you have a random jumper in your boot?” 

Rickon looked up at her, watching her pull the jumper over her head, he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck before explaining himself.

“My mum, she would always force us to have an extra jumper in the car. In one go my dad would have at least ten jumpers in his boot.”

He looked back down at his camera, this time just uselessly fiddling with it, instead in his head it played over that he had mentioned his dad yet again. 

“Are you good now?” He asked, trying to change the subject, trying not to meet her eyes.

“Yeah, this is good. It smells like you.”

He looked up at her, watching her wrap her arms around herself, “Is that a bad thing?”

“No, not at all,” Lyanna spoke softly, walking away from him and moving closer to the beach.

Widow’s Watch wasn’t much of a beach, though a pebble beach was still a beach, it was still frigid and cold but that didn’t stop it from being entirely gorgeous as the sun began to rise. He stared at her in thought before remembering that he was meant to be taking pictures of her.

Rickon focused his camera at her, looking up a final time to watch her laugh at him as she took her hair down from its ponytail, trotting closer to the sea. He hardly noticed how fast time went by, only watching the colours wash away in the sky, lilacs turning to blues. 

With silence, the sound of waves breaking against the shore and wind in his ears, Rickon strapped his camera over his neck before jogging towards Lyanna and pulling her by her waist. She had been walking along the shore, occasionally picking up pebbles before throwing them into the ocean. 

She laughed when he lifted her off her feet, putting her back down to twirl her until she faced him. They stood with their arms around each other, basking in each other’s warmth. 

“Look,” she said, still holding onto him as she fished a pebble out of her pocket, “I found a blue one.” She placed it in his palm, the smooth eroded surface was cold in his hand. “It’s the same colour as your eyes.” 

Rickon felt his heart heavy in his chest, _did she know what she did to him?_ He stared down at her, she was leaning heavily against his chest, watching the horizon in front of them; the purple hue the sky got as the sun stained it. He kissed the top of her head, smelling her shampoo as he ran his fingers through her hair. He clutched the sea glass in his palm, tilting her chin up with his thumb. 

It was as if she didn’t even consider what she had said to him, or the leaden effect it had on his heart. He kissed her, both their lips lethargic yet never lacking that unyielding longing that he felt. His hands went into her hair, sea glass still in his palm as he held her closer, feeling both the heaviness of his heart and the camera on his neck. 

“Let’s go back into the car,” he whispered, not wanting to interrupt the serene sounds of the world around them. 

He offered the sea glass back to her, “No, keep it,” Lyanna spoke softly, putting the rock in the front pocket of his jeans, he chuckled at the fact that she placed it in the smaller right pocket, above the larger one where he kept his keys. 

They walked arm in arm, pebbles crunching under their soles as they made it back to his car. 

Lyanna pulled the passenger door open, realising he hadn’t locked his car. As Rickon was about to walk to the driver’s seat when he felt a hand pull on his arm. 

“No.” 

He looked to her, watching as she walked backwards guiding him into the passenger’s seat first. As if enchanted by her, he wordlessly fell into the seat, she shimmied out of her jeans and shoes before following him, sitting in his lap and closing the door. 

Rickon threw his head back laughing, “You’re so practical,” he joked, tugging on the jumper she was wearing to bring her closer to him as she set her jeans in the driver’s seat. She leaned into him, kissing him. 

When she pulled away, Rickon slipped his camera off his neck, making a move to place it on his driver’s seat only to have her stop him. 

“I want you to get pictures of me now,” Lyanna passed a hand down his chest, eyes darting up to his. 

Rickon leaned back, watching as she pulled off both layers of clothing, placing them on top of her jeans. She stared back at him as goosebumps covered her body, her nipples hard and inviting. For a moment he’d forgotten what she had asked of him, allowing his hand to travel up her stomach, feeling her pebbled skin before cupping her breast. He rolled her nipple with his thumb, eliciting a moan from her. 

He took a moment to roll down the window, reaching forward to pull a packet of cigarettes from the glove compartment behind her before going back to his camera. Rickon watched her pull out a fag, placing it between her lips before taking his lighter out of the packet. It was a cheap bic one with a stupid logo on it but it did the job as she flicked it on. 

Not being able to help but be mesmerised, he got shots of her releasing a drag, her hair still messy, light from the peeking sun shining through it. Rickon couldn’t explain what he was feeling, he could blame it on his sleep deprivation but he no longer wanted to come up with excuses, even if it was just for himself. He watched her through his lenses, trying not to lose focus as she undid his jeans. 

Rickon could feel the gusts of wind bite at his neck, at the exposed band of his stomach from where she had pulled his t-shirt up, he could hardly imagine how she was just sitting there, naked with the exception of her knickers, every surface of her body being hit with the cold breeze. 

His camera had gone slack in his hands as she continued, pulling him out of his jeans before looking up at him. 

“I never told you to stop,” she spoke him out of his bubble, pulling her knickers aside before sliding down his cock. 

Rickon threw his head back, groaning her name, “Fucking- Gods, Lee,” his hips lifting to meet hers. 

“Careful,” she laughed, her hand flat against the roof, “your tiny sports car isn’t made for this.”

Rickon let out a breathy laugh, “I think we’re making it work, don’t you?” he leaned forward to kiss her only to be pushed back against the seat. She exhaled another drag before placing her cigarette on her lips, taking his camera out of his hands and coaxing him out of his t-shirt, pile of clothes growing higher in his driver’s seat. He wondered if he’d ever let anyone else have so much control over him, but with a lazy smile on his face, he knew no one could even come close. 

Lyanna put her cigarette between his lips before rocking her hips, steadily holding onto his camera. Rickon leaned his elbow on the driver’s seat, cigarette between his fingers as he let himself uncoil with every rock of her hips against his. 

“Look at me,” he opened his eyes to meet hers, her fingers tilting his chin up. 

Rickon held onto her waist, putting the cigarette back to his lips, watching as she tried to get her own picture of him. “Lee, you’re fucking beautiful.” 

Lyanna lowered his camera slightly, smiling at him, “You’re not half bad yourself,” she said before taking another picture. 

Rickon took the camera out of her hands, placing it on their pile of clothes before tossing the cigarette out the window. “I fucking mean it, I can’t look at you without feeling like I’m going crazy,” he let his hands get lost in her hair, pulling her lips to his as he finally let himself hold onto her. 

He kissed her hard enough to wonder if he had bruised her lips, she moaned against his lips as he brought his hips up to meet hers. 

Rickon heard a thud before she pulled away, he swept her hair out of her face, cradling her head as she pouted, laughing immediately after. 

“I don’t like having sex in this car,” she complained, burying her head in his neck, kissing him lazily as their movements continued, though both of them feeling the effects of not sleeping all night. 

“Just kiss me,” he told her, bringing his lips to hers, tracing down her back, every ridge of her spine catalogued in his sleepy head. 

He felt everything, the way his heart pattered in his chest, her arms around his shoulders, her fingers in his hair, her tongue gliding against his, and of course the way her hips met his. Rickon was completely lost. _There was no way this wasn’t what love felt like,_ he thought.

It was overwhelming to have her moaning in his arms, trying to bite back his own moans as he kissed her, all whilst trying not to let a few simple words slip out of his mouth. Ones he never knew he could feel. 

Her hand slipped between them, her forehead leaning against his as she breathed heavily, rubbing her clit. Rickon felt her fall apart, her body trembling as she came, her tight grip on him before she fell into his arms.

* * *

Lyanna laid warmly against his chest, she had pulled his jumper back on, covering herself from the breeze the opened window brought. 

He had his arms wrapped around her, his fingers going through her hair as he let his thoughts wander. 

“Show me the pictures you took,” her voice came out softly, lifting his head from where it was against hers. Rickon still feeling the cold wind against his chest with each gust, not wanting her to get up, he ignored it in favour of her in his arms. 

He reached out for his camera that still sat on top of their clothes, switching it on as he leaned his arm against the car door. The first pictures were of him, Rickon heard her laugh as he clicked through them. 

“Do you find me funny, naked?” He asked her, smiling along with her because there was no way he could watch her grin like that and not smile himself. 

“No,” she laughed again, “I just like them, I think should get this one printed and keep it in my purse for good luck.” Lyanna joked, pulling his grin wider as she clicked back to one of him with his eyes closed.

“If you want good luck we can take one of my dick for you to keep,” Rickon mocked back, chuckling as she cringed. 

“Sounds more like bad luck.” 

Rickon feigned an offended gasp, pulling her face to his and leaving kisses all over her face before she pulled away, laughing at his stupid display. “You’re a liar,” he noted, his face only inches away from hers, watching her bite back a smile as he grinned widely. 

She kissed him properly, feeling her smile on his lips as she did, letting out a breathy laugh as she pulled away. “Show me the others.” 

Rickon stared at her just a moment longer before clicking through the pictures, her body coming onto the small screen. 

“Wow these look incredible, how did you do that?” Lyanna stared back at him as if she didn’t realise she was the reason any of the pictures were worth looking at.

“You’re naked in these, Lee, that’s why they look great,” her eyes were fixed on the camera, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Rickon was taken aback when she looked back at him. 

“You’re so charming,” she responded sarcastically, a smile on her lips. 

“Maybe _I’ll_ print these ones out for good luck.” 

“Go ahead.”

Rickon smiled at her nonchalance, bringing her closer to his chest as he went through to the pictures of her on the beach. She stayed silent, watching the pictures switch. 

“This one’s my favourite,” he told her quietly, watching her lift her head. _She was tired_ , he could tell. “Should we head back?” 

“Yeah okay,” Rickon turned his camera off, putting it down as she turned in the seat again, sitting in his lap and facing him. 

She stared back at him, running her fingers through his hair, pushing it back out of his face. Rickon let his hands run under the green woollen jumper she wore. 

“When did you get into this?” Lyanna asked, brown eyes staring back at his. There was a haze that hung over them, he wasn’t sure if it was love that made him feel so foggy or just sleep deprivation, _maybe a little bit of both_. 

“Hmm?” 

“Photography, how did it happen?” 

Rickon laid back against the seat, eyes wandering in thought. “Gods, it was so long ago, maybe ten years?” He recalled his mother’s stern look when he’d expressed a fascination for it. “Arya bought me my first camera and film.” 

Lyanna nodded, hands still tracing down the side of his face. 

“I haven’t really gone out and done stuff like this in a while, I don’t remember the last time I took my camera out and took some shots.” 

“You’ve been busy,” Lyanna told him, thumb passing over his lips, his heart sped up at her movements. “If you want, I’ll be your muse,” she laughed, “I’ll get you out and you can take pictures of me.” 

“What did you think you were today, if not my muse?” His hands went up her spine, pulling her closer to him. _The pain be mine, but thine shall be the praise_. 

She smiled at him, what was the sun in comparison to her smile? Rickon had decided multiple times in the hours since they had left her flat that he would tell her how he felt. He would. But once she was back. Telling her he loved her would just make it harder when she left. He did not want her to ever be away from him once he told her. 

“Let’s go,” she kissed him a last time. 

* * *

They’d fallen into her bed as soon as they got back to her flat, with Lyanna tucked into his chest, Rickon barely slept, thinking mostly about the woman in his arms, pondering a million different things, not giving his mind a moment to shut off.

There was a fear that lingered alongside the warmth that wrapped around his heart. Because despite all the signs, he still couldn’t be entirely sure about how she felt. Even if he felt his heart speed up and stutter at the sight of her, how would he know if each tempted touch meant what he hoped it to mean? 

Rickon dozed off for a few hours, waking up with her back to his side, his arm tucked under her head. Burying his face in her hair, he pulled her closer, her back flush against his chest. She shifted slightly, placing her hand over his. 

“I don’t want to get up,” she mumbled, hiding her face in her pillow. 

“Don’t.” 

“I haven’t finished packing,” Lyanna said, her fingers going between his. 

“You can pack later,” Rickon murmured against her skin, kissing her neck softly. 

Lyanna took a deep breath, moving her fingers to his hair. “Okay, yeah,” she breathed, taking his hand and bringing it under her t-shirt. 

Rickon groaned inwardly, her body coming closer to his as his hand trailed up her body, he kissed her neck again, flicking a hardened nipple with his thumb. 

Lyanna arched back against him, pushing back against his length. “What do you want me to do?” Rickon asked, still kissing her skin, rolling her nipple between his fingers, going down to trace the curve of her breast.

“Mhm,” Lyanna moaned, pulling his hand down to her knickers wordlessly. 

Rickon pulled her closer by her hips, relieving some of the tension he felt growing in his cock. He lowered her knickers with a thumb hooked under the waistband, taking it off completely with her help. He took his time, letting his hand skim her skin, cupping her arse generously before moving back between her legs. 

He traced down her cunt with his middle finger, feeling the way her breath quickened as he pressed down on her clit, continuing down her folds to where he felt her wetness collect. It spurred him on, how much he seemed to get to her. 

Rickon leaned over, capturing her lips with his as he continued back up, rolling her clit in circles with his fingers. He let his tongue meet hers as he rubbed her clit between two fingers, pressing harder on the side she was partial to. 

He pulled away, tugging at her t-shirt just enough for her to pull it off. Rickon slid his other hand underneath her, cupping her breast with his arm splayed across her torso. 

Lyanna kissed him over her shoulder once more, two fingers sliding into her, her moans muffled by his tongue on hers. She pulled him closer, hooking her leg over his, sliding her hand behind, down his stomach. 

Rickon groaned as her hand slipped under the waistband of his boxers, he added a third finger, feeling her stroke his cock slowly. He only hovered a thumb over her clit, not touching down so as to draw her out.

“ _Lee_ ,” Rickon managed to choke out, “I’m meant to be getting you off.” He shut his eyes, burying his face in her shoulder. His words didn’t stop her, Lyanna arched herself against him and continued.

Rickon tipped her over onto her stomach, holding her by her hips, removing her hand. He sat back on his knees behind her, breathing heavily and shoving her quilt away as he passed his hands up her sides. She turned onto her back, staring back up at him with a grin. She must’ve known how much she affected him. 

“Come on, I need to get up soon,” Lyanna told him, bringing her hand between her legs. 

He let her go on for a while because he had to see her, the way she dipped two fingers inside herself, her other hand pinching one of her nipples before coming down to join the other, pressing down on her clit. 

Rickon kissed her, heedlessly pulling her by her wrists, pinning both to her sides, lips meeting hers harder. She laughed breathlessly, not bothering to struggle under his grasp. She was too good, she knew the pull she had over him. 

“You’re making this incredibly difficult for me,” Rickon said, meeting her eyes intently. 

Lyanna leaned up against her elbows, her wrists still trapped under his hands. “Aren’t you going to touch me, Rickon?” She asked, her voice so velvety it danced smoothly down his spine. 

He dropped down to her, his lips drawing a trail down her body, lingering on her neck for a moment hungrily biting at her skin as she slowly dropped back down to the bed. Rickon went down her collarbones to her breasts, taking his time with her sensitive nipples, hardened by arousal into peaks. He took one into his mouth, finally moving his grip on her wrists but only to cross them above her head, where he could hold her down with one hand, the other gingerly travelling down her body, past her one untouched breast. 

“What do you want me to do to you?” Rickon asked again, teeth grazing her nipple, leaving kisses on the flesh of her breast as he went back up to meet her lips. “How do you want me to make you come— with my fingers, or with my mouth?” 

Lyanna arched her back against the bed, his thumb pressed down on her clit. She moaned under his touch, throwing her head back. 

“Tell me,” he urged her, his voice was low and raspy in her ear as he continued kissing her neck, the spot by her ear where she always liked. Rickon felt himself painfully hard in his boxers but was intent on having her fall apart for him, where his full attention was on her pleasure. 

“Fingers,” she breathed, Rickon slipped two fingers inside her. 

He lifted his head to see her face, not moving his fingers inside. “Rickon, fuck-“ she whined, struggling under his grip. 

“Yeah?” 

It was enthralling to watch her, he’d rarely get the chance to hold her down, fully taking the reins himself. 

“What is it, Lee?” He acted clueless, determined to have her unravel slowly. Rickon pumped his fingers inside her, going deeply and curling once, hovering his thumb by her clit. 

“Rickon, please,” Lyanna pleaded, shifting against the mattress. She opened her wide eyes at him, throwing her head back in a moan as he continued again, only to stop once more. 

“What do you want?” He asked again.

“I want you,” she told him, “I want you to fuck me.” _Not yet,_ he thought. 

Rickon dropped his lips to hers, immediately seeking out her tongue with his, his fingers pumping into her as he changed between thumbing her clit and using the heel of his palm. His thumb slid to the side as he added a third finger, kissing her harder as her breathing got heavier. 

Lyanna moaned his name, the way she did every time that always made him sure he was going to come without even being touched. 

Rickon pulled away long enough to watch her as she came, he watched fervently as she arched her back. It became harder to hold her down, but as she trembled beneath him, he forgot all things else. 

“Gods, you’re brilliant,” Rickon told her, his fingers passing over her still sensitive clit. 

Lyanna laughed breathily, shaking her head. “You’re really intense sometimes, y’know?” 

He kissed her temple, releasing her wrists and coming to lay beside her. His body was still wracked from not getting enough sleep but if it meant spending more time with her he couldn’t seem to care. “Am I?” Rickon asked.

“Mmh.” 

She tucked herself under his arm, fingers tracing down his chest. He kissed the top of her head, finding himself slowly falling asleep again with thoughts pervading his head.

* * *

Rickon awoke again with the bed empty. He found Lyanna again in the living room, propped up on the sofa, a yellow covered book in hand, hair damp and falling onto her shoulders as she drank out of a white mug. There was something vaguely pleasant about waking up and knowing she was somewhere near. 

She set her book down when she noticed him, smiling as he laid onto the sofa, resting his head in her lap. Her fingers passed through his hair as she brought her mug to her lips. Rickon leaned up to kiss her when the mug left her lips, tasting the coffee on her lips, smell of coffee and her fruity shampoo lingering. 

“Do you want me to drop coffee on you again?” 

Rickon’s fingers weaved through her wet hair, “I don’t mind,” he told her, passing his thumb over her soft cheek, “is it at least hot this time?” 

“Stop it, I brewed a pot,” she laughed, covering his eyes his her hand. 

Rickon tried prying her hand off his eyes, “What are you doing?” he felt her lips on his shortly after. “Is this your way of shutting me up?” He asked as she uncovered his eyes, grinning widely. 

“It clearly doesn’t work,” Lyanna remarked. 

Rickon lifted himself off her lap, putting her mug onto the coffee table and sitting back down on the sofa, this time pulling her into a proper kiss. “I’m going to shower,” he told her, pulling away just to stare in her eyes a bit longer.

* * *

Rickon sat on her bed, smoothing out the quilt as she threw clothes onto the bed. 

“These are already folded— why are you taking them out?” Rickon questioned, looking through the once folded clothes, now a mess. 

“I’m going to put them into the other bag, I’m going to put my books into this suitcase,” Lyanna replied from her spot on the ground where she continued throwing clothes onto the bed, most falling into his lap. 

“Are you meeting someone while you’re there?” Rickon asked, holding up her knickers, black and lacey, they hardly covered anything. 

“No,” she snatched them out of his hands, “but they match with this bralette so they go together.” She smiled as she held up the other piece to him, knowingly. 

“Can I see you in it?” Rickon said, pulling her in between his legs, his chin resting against her torso. 

“Rickon, you know what I look like naked.” 

“I’m quite blessed, aren’t I?” He pulled her onto his lap, biting his lip as he met her eyes. 

“Fuck, don’t look at me like that,” Lyanna breathed, kissing his jaw. 

Rickon leaned back against his hands, feeling some of her clothes underneath his palms behind him. “Like what?” He tilted his head back as she continued kissing him. 

“I don’t know, but it makes me not want to leave.” 

Rickon groaned leaning forward to hold her head in his palms. He was so close to telling her what that look really meant, that he loved her. He kissed her properly, he felt her arms come around his neck, pulling him in tighter. 

“You’re coming back, it’s not a big deal, but I will miss you.” 

Lyanna stared back at him, close to saying something before stopping herself. Her hand passed over his jaw, and she kissed him again, somewhat chastely. “Yeah, you’re right,” she said quietly. “I need to finish packing.” 

She got off his lap, Rickon dropped back onto his elbows, “Do I get to see you in this set then?” He asked, still fiddling with her underwear. 

“I’ll wear it tomorrow.” 

Rickon grinned in success, lifting himself off the bed only to have Lyanna push him back, taking the lingerie out of his hands. 

“Please help me,” Lyanna finally huffed, sitting on the floor with her legs crossed. 

“I’ll fold these, then we can go make dinner.” 

“Okay, yeah just hand them to me,” Lyanna got up, packing the books on her desk. 

* * *

“No!” Rickon used his elbow to shoo the black cat that jumped onto the centre island. “Malbec, get the fuck away, I have a knife.” 

Lyanna came to his side, holding a shallot in her hand and leaning down to kiss Malbec. “Are you threatening her?” She asked him, watching him intently as he finished chopping up a carrot, putting a piece into his mouth. 

“Yeah,” he gestured at the cat, “I have a knife, she’s going to hurt herself.” 

“She just wants love,” Lyanna said, picking up Malbec and putting her back on the floor.

“Don’t we all.” 

Lyanna elbowed his side, “I get you’re not a cat person-“ 

“I’m really not,” he confirmed, biting into another carrot slice. 

“ _But_ , Malbec is a sweetheart, she’s probably just missing Myrcella,” Lyanna took him by the waist and held him close to her. She kissed the side of his lips, “Did you have a family dog or what?” 

“Six actually.” 

He grinned at her, watching her realise. “One for each of you?” She asked, pushing the chopping board away from him as he continued eating the carrots. 

“Yeah,” He nodded, setting the knife down.

Rickon rolled up his already short sleeve, showing her the tattoo she knew well that marked his inner arm. “That’s Shaggydog,” he said, pointing at the black wolf head, green eyes had already started to fade. 

“Shaggydog?” Lyanna smiled softly, brown eyes meeting his. 

“To be fair, I named him when I was four.” 

“Was he one of those wolf dogs?” Lyanna asked, her finger lingering on his skin where the tattoo marked it. “When did you get this?” 

“I was around seventeen,” she laughed at his words, making him smile, “yeah, my dad brought a litter of them home one day. And everyone chose cooler names than Shaggydog but it fit.”

“You were four, it’s cute.” 

“Robb had Greywind and Bran would not stop going on about how cool the name was, even years later, which is why I can remember it.” 

“I haven’t met Bran, have I?” Lyanna played with the hem of his t-shirt. 

“No, I haven’t seen him since before I knew you,” he took her hand in his, “why are you holding a shallot?” 

Lyanna dropped her head onto his shoulder, laughing silently, “I was meant to mince it but then got distracted.” 

“How do I do as a distraction?” 

“Terribly.” 

Rickon leaned down, “You’re a rubbish liar,” he told her. 

* * *

After the hours went by, they fell into an easy conversation as they cleaned up. Rickon found himself somewhat thankful for Trystane in a vastly different way than he would’ve thought three years prior. Myrcella being gone meant that he was able to get uninterrupted time with Lyanna. Unlike the day before when Myrcella brought Trystane over and remarked on being _“the only one who hasn’t fucked Rickon”_. 

“How have you not watched Rebel Without a Cause?” Rickon asked, putting the dishtowel down and staring back at her. 

“Isn’t it old? My sisters and I preferred watching movies that would scare Lyra,” Lyanna told him offhandedly, placing a plate back onto the dishrack.

“But-“ he stuttered in disbelief, “it’s James Dean’s most known film.” 

Lyanna stared at him amusingly, “James Dean isn’t much my type,” she shrugged. 

“James Dean is _everyone’s_ type,” Rickon remarked, holding his hand up, mid-gesticulation. 

“What about Humphrey Bogart?” 

“If he’s my type?” Lyanna began putting the leftovers into the fridge.

Rickon followed her to the fridge, handing her the fish and potatoes, “ _No_ , have you watched any of his movies?” 

“Oh, no I haven’t.” 

“Wow, Gods, really?” Rickon leaned against the counter, “but you have to watch Casablanca.” 

“Do I?” Lyanna laughed. 

“Yes,” he reiterated, “we’ll watch it tonight, then I’ll make you watch The Maltese Falcon.” 

She scrunched up her nose, “Sometimes I forget you were a private school boy,” Lyanna joked. 

Rickon feigned offence, “If you’re trying to subtly call me a rich boy, you aren’t being so subtle,” he joked, taking her by the wrist and guiding her closer to him. “And most of the guys in my high school were complete tossers, so private school has nothing to do with it.”

“Any other surprising things I should know?” Lyanna mocked, standing between his legs.

“Nah, I think my ego is wounded enough for today.”

“Alright, we’ll watch it,” she agreed, “but I bet you play at least one instrument as well, don’t you?”

He nodded with a strained smile, “Let’s not delve further before you start hating me.” 

“I would never.” 

“Don’t be too sure, y’know that I’m terrible in bed.” 

Lyanna laughed, leaning back against the centre island. He smiled at her, folding his arms against his chest. “I really shouldn’t laugh, but I guess you can consider your ego restored to its former state.” She stated, wiping the corner of her eyes.

Rickon took a step forward, running his hands up her arms, “So you don’t want to stroke my ego a little more?” His hands caressing back down her arms, coming to hold her hands.

He watched her smile grow as he brought her hands to his lips. “Only you would try to make a handjob sound like some big romantic gesture,” Lyanna said, trying to hold back her grin. 

“That’s because it is,” he continued, trying to extend his joke, “would you like me to show you?” 

“If this is you convincing me to watch you get yourself off-“ 

“I would never,” Rickon began, “I wouldn’t have to convince you of anything.” He kissed her palms, only to have her pull away with a gasp. 

“You’re brave,” she told him sarcastically. 

He pulled her in by the waist, watching her bite her lip, “I had to be,” he said, kissing her softly at first.

* * *

Rickon switched off the lights, coming to sit beside Lyanna on the sofa. He draped an arm over her, making room for her to shift closer into him. It was somewhat stupid of him to begin thinking up ways he’d tell her how he felt, as soon as the movie began. But even as the flashes of black and white came to the screen, his thoughts were engulfed with the smell of her hair, her body in the crook of his arm and three infallible words, or very much the opposite. 

Moments into the movie, Lyanna looked up at him, “I can’t believe you let people call you ‘Rick’,” she told him, referring to Bogart’s character. 

“Ha, you don’t like it?”

“I prefer ‘Rickon’.”

“Yeah, it sounds great when you say it, but not everyone’s so patient,” he pushed back her hair, wanting to kiss the spot between her eyebrows, where sometimes a crease would form. 

“Yeah, Tommen calls you ‘Rick’, doesn’t he?” Lyanna said before continuing, “but you call me ‘Lee’, remember, let’s not talk about patience,” Lyanna draped her leg over his, leaning against the sofa with her side.

“That’s less about patience and more about-“ _more about distinction, more about love, if it made sense, he’d tell her it was his way of making sure she had a name by which only he would call her,_ “I wanted to call you something different, so you’d think of me if you ever heard the name.” 

He watched her in silence, she didn’t seem to have anything to say though she stared back at him. 

“And to be fair, I do call Tommen, ‘Tom’, most times,” Rickon added. Lyanna laughed softly, turning back to the tv. “You missed some of the best bits.” 

Rickon took the remote and rewinded the film. Lyanna pulled his arm tighter around herself, though she ended up falling asleep before the movie finished, he didn’t wake her. He didn’t bother paying attention to the rest of it, mind wandering on nothing in particular but everything as well. 

For the dozenth time that weekend, Rickon told himself he’d tell her how he felt when she returned. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!  
> this chapter goes to [yanak324](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yanak324), as this one, along with every other chapter would not have been written without her support.  
> love,  
> [fineosaur](https://fineosaur.tumblr.com)  
> (come say hi!)


	6. people lie, people love, people go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from: a dream of you and me - future islands

_mid march_

_lyanna_

Lyanna woke up beside Rickon, his eyes still softly shut as he laid on his pillow with an arm tucked underneath it. It was a warm feeling, waking up with him in her bed for the third night in a row. Throughout the weekend with him, she had somehow not found a single moment where she’d rather be alone, the thought left her unbalanced. 

It was early, and she knew she had to be at Jorelle’s flat before 10 am, regardless she continued watching him, letting her eyes line the flexed muscle of his arm and the way his mouth hung slightly open as he slept. 

When her hand reached out to his face, pushing his hair out of his face, his auburn curls messily strewn about, his eyes opened slowly, “You’re staring, it’s too early to be staring,” he told her, closing his eyes again. His voice was perfectly hoarse with sleep, it sent a shiver down her spine. 

“When is deemed a right time?” She asked, her fingertips going down his face, feeling the stubble that started growing on his jaw. 

“Mhm maybe when I forget that you’re leaving for three weeks,” he replied, shifting on his pillow as his eyes opened slightly to see her again.

“Could you forget now?”

Rickon shook his head, closing his eyes again. He took her hand on his face and kissed it before holding onto it.

“You’re still staring.”

“You told me not to and I’m not going to listen.”

“Fine,” Rickon said opening his eyes and pulling her until her back was up against his chest, “I just need five more minutes with you in my arms, okay?” 

“Okay,” she held onto his arm and let herself enjoy the warmth of his body and his general presence. 

* * *

Lyanna stood in front of her mirror when she heard him call for her, loosening the strap of her bra, which she preferred to go sans but thought it better not to have her tits on display throughout a cold flight.

He had gotten into the shower after her and was still in the bathroom when he called for her. She opened the door to see him glistening from his shower, towel loosely draped around his hips, putting particular emphasis on his adonis belt. 

“Yeah?” 

“Do you have a razor I can use?” Rickon asked, staring at himself in the still fogged up mirror, rubbing his palms along his jaw. 

“Yeah,” Lyanna handed him a disposable razor and the shaving gel she used for her legs. She took a seat on the counter, leaning against the mirror deciding to she watch him. 

He stared at the foam for a moment. “Do you reckon it’s alright to use this on my face?” Rickon asked. 

Lyanna took the canister from him, reading the labels and not seeing anything too concerning. “I guess just once is fine, right?” She reassured him, popping the lid as she ran her fingers through the opened tap and rubbing some of the gel in her fingers until it foamed. She gestured for him to come closer to her. 

Rickon stood between her legs. “I guess so,” he chuckled, tilting his head up as she coated the foam on his jaw and neck, feeling the vibrations of his laugh. 

He moved closer to the sink, running the purple razor through water before bringing it to his face, dragging along his skin and rinsing the razor every now and then. 

Lyanna went back to applying her mascara as she sat on the counter. When he was done he washed off the foam, drying his face with a small towel and eyeing her for a moment, running his fingers along his jaw. 

“What do you think?” He asked, taking her hand in his and bringing it to his cold jaw. 

“I can’t tell like this,” Lyanna stated, feeling him slot himself between her legs again. 

“What do you mean?” Rickon’s confusion made her smile, despite his lingering gaze down her body, left sitting on the counter in her underwear. 

“Kiss my neck, maybe then I’ll be able to tell,” she told him, watching as he understood her train of thought. 

“No need to make excuses, Lee, if you want me to kiss you, just ask,” Rickon leaned forward, bringing his lips to her neck. He still smelt of her shaving gel and his face was cold from his shave. Lyanna closed her eyes on instinct, her head spinning with the feeling of him. 

“Okay,” she breathed, feeling his mouth on her skin, “kiss me.” 

He pulled back, bringing her closer to the edge of the counter and kissing her. Her legs wrapped around his waist, around the towel that sat on his hips. Rickon let his tongue tease hers just for a moment before pulling away and kissing down her body, decidedly stopping at her bra. 

“I like this,” he said, dragging his finger down between the cups, bringing the bra further down, kissing the exposed skin. 

Lyanna moaned at his kisses. She had bought the black balconette when Myrcella had convinced her they ‘did favours’, which she couldn’t disagree with, especially in her current situation. 

“Is it terrible, how bad I want to see it ruined?” Rickon asked from between her breasts. 

Lyanna ran her fingers through his hair, tugging his head back, meeting his eyes. “You can come on it when I’m back,” pulling him back up, her lips grazing his, “for now, I need you to fuck me before we leave.” She told him, watching his eyes close as he registered what she said. 

She laughed breathlessly, cradling his head, feeling his lips roughly against hers, “Sometimes you say things… and I don’t think you understand what you do to me,” Rickon broke away, groaning as she tightened her legs around him. _He didn’t know what he did to her._

Rickon pulled away, pushing her hair back, holding onto her, silence in his penetrating gaze. Lyanna wound her arms around his body, still a bit damp from his shower. Just in that moment, perhaps in many other moments too, she’d see an opening, a chance for her to take the leap and tell him everything, from the way she felt to the fact that she was leaving in the summer. Lyanna never did in the end, but part of her wanted to take his hand and go far away from it all, where she didn’t have to think so hard all the time, where she didn’t have all her responsibilities looming over her. Instead, she kissed him again, pulling his towel off his waist, letting it fall to the floor. 

Lyanna already felt weightless, just under his kiss, with the way his hands just ran down her body. When his lips wandered down her neck, she smiled, letting out a laugh. 

“What’s funny?” He grinned, kissing the side of her lips, looking back at her face. 

_I’m happy,_ she thought. “Nothing, I just like how it feels when you kiss my neck,” Lyanna lied, his fingers hooking on the waistband of her knickers. 

“Can’t believe you’re fuckin’ leaving,” Rickon breathed, pulling her to the edge of the counter once more, getting rid of her knickers. 

“I’ll be back before you know it,” Lyanna said, bringing her hand between their bodies, stroking his cock as he stared down at her with hands on her hips. 

Rickon thrusted into her with a groan, leaning his head on hers. “Trust me, I’ll know,” his voice was raspy, coating her like honey, she chose to lose herself in it, sweet and viscous, he chased her lips, “I’ll know you’re gone.” Rickon kissed her again.

_He had no idea._

With each thrust, he brought her back to the edge of the counter; Lyanna kept her balance with her arm stretched behind her. As his pace quickened, she struggled to hold herself up, hand knocking down her mascara and the canister of shaving foam, the latter rolling off the counter and onto the floor with a clang. 

Rickon pulled away to stare at her, stilling as they both laughed breathily at their mess. His eyes lingered on hers as she watched his tongue dart out over his lips. 

Lyanna adjusted her arms around his neck, slowly bringing her thumb to his cheek as if to brush away the freckles that marked his face. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers, eyes slowly closing as he breathed her in. 

She tightened her legs around him once more, daring to let herself kiss him with all the vehemence she could conjure. Rickon slowly began rocking into her once again, falling into her kiss. All she seemed to hear was love against his lips. 

“I’m glad Myrcella isn’t home.” 

Rickon lifted his head, laughing at her. “Why in seven hells are you thinking about Myrcella?” He gripped her hips tighter as she held his shoulders, trying to balance a hand on the limited counter space behind her. 

“I’m not,” she laughed with him, grinning as she looked up at him, “I’m glad cause I can tell you to fuck me harder without her overhearing it.” 

“What do you mean?” He breathed, his hand joining hers on the counter. 

“We have thin walls,” she moved her hand up to his hair, feeling his nails dig into her skin. “So, fuck me harder, Rickon.” Her voice got louder. 

He moved his hand up her body, pulling her tighter to him, his lips meeting hers. “You know, you saying this just makes me want to make you scream when people are home?” Rickon pulled away to watch her answer. 

“Yeah,” Lyanna moaned, “but you aren’t the one who gets kinkshamed later on.” 

“I am the one who gets noise complaints though,” Lyanna laughed, taking her hand off the counter and pulling his lips to hers. 

“I’m sorry,” she laughed again, hand coming between their bodies. 

“Nah, it’s a nice reminder if I’m being honest,” he joked, watching her fingers roll her clit. 

“Harder, Rickon,” she told him, nails digging in his shoulder as he increased his pace, lips trailing down her body, coming to her breasts once more. 

He unclasped her bra, letting it hang down her arms as he brought his lips back to hers, pinching her nipple between his fingers. “Fuck,” he groaned, her nails scratching down his back as he went deeper. 

“Gods, yeah,” Lyanna moaned, losing her fingers in his auburn curls as she continued rubbing her clit to match his thrusts. 

“Your voice, fuck-“ Rickon kissed her again roughly as their movements grew more and more uncoordinated. He pulled away to meet her eyes, blue gaze burning intensely as he stared at her, looking as if he wanted to say something more. “I want to hear you say my name.” 

Lyanna threw her head back as he kissed her neck, biting at her skin as he met her hips fervently. His hands still massaged her breasts, pinching her nipples between his fingers. 

“Fuck- Rickon,” Lyanna gasped, being pulled closer to the edge of the counter once more as he fucked her harder. His name was on her lips with each thrust. 

When he abruptly pulled away, Lyanna held herself up on the counter, panting as she knew she was close to her peak. Rickon pulled out and stared at her with an intense glare before dropping down between her legs. She threw her head back in anticipation. 

His tongue came down on her with vigour she could hardly handle, her clit sensitive from being so close to finishing. Rickon steadied her, his forearms balanced on the counter as he held onto her tightly. 

“Keep going, Rickon,” Lyanna encouraged through moans, “I’m so fucking close.” 

Rickon lifted his head up, heated gaze meeting hers, it made her stomach flip as if the way his tongue felt against her wasn’t enough to do so. She moaned, pushing his hair back and keeping it there with her fingers in his fringe. He stared up at her as he slid two of his fingers into her, making sure to brush against her clit first before going down her folds. 

Rickon sucked on her, grazing her clit gently with his teeth as he curled his fingers inside her. He moved up her body again, keeping his fingers inside her and bringing his thumb on her as he kissed her shoulder mumbling incoherent words to her if they were words at all she didn’t hear them, lost in the wave of her orgasm rippling over her. 

He took his fingers out of her as she trembled in his arms and slowly slid into her, groaning as he did so. Rickon stilled within her, kissing her soundly, gripping her tightly as she drifted. 

He brought his hands down to her hips again, eyes hidden from her as he continued thrusting into her, slower this time. 

* * *

They’d managed to detangled themselves from one another just in time to get ready to leave. It was surprisingly early given all that they had managed to do.

Still in the bathroom, Lyanna brushed out her hair, already growing sick of how long her hair had gotten, thick locks just barely grazing the bottom of her spine at this point. Countless times she found herself wanting to get rid of it all but she barely had time think of a haircut, let alone spend useless time in a salon.

Lyanna stopped brushing her hair to glance at Rickon and the quiet hiss he let out, “Fuck, that’s gonna burn later,” he stood with his back towards the mirror, looking back at himself over his shoulder. 

She stared at the pink lines that ran over his freckled back. “Gods, I did that?” She put her brush down, hovering a finger over one of the angry lines. 

“Yeah, it’s okay though, I should be used to it by now really. I just have to go to the pool later,” He said, looking to the side at her, meeting her eyes with a grin on his face. Rickon leaned down to kiss her, burying his hands in her hair, messing it up though she had just brushed it out. 

Lyanna laughed against his lips, pushing him away, “Don’t fuck with me, I will brush out those little russet curls of yours,” she mockingly threatened. 

“Put the brush down, you know I’d rather you do it with your fingers, Lee,” Rickon countered, looping his hands around her waist. 

“This is why you’re always late to things,” Lyanna scoffed him. She held her brush against his chest, watching his eyes dart down to it before meeting her eyes. The mischievous going in his blue eyes was one she had become quite familiar with. 

“I could be early if I tried,” he said, hands ghosting her waist, “but I like it when you make me late.”

“I’ll try not to give into you then.”

“It’ll be hard, but I can try to live with that,” Rickon’s hands went up her arms as he slowly spun her around, pulling her into his chest. He brought his lips to her shoulder. Lyanna leaned back in his embrace, her eyes followed their reflections in the mirror, his closed eyes as he held her tight. 

* * *

The sky was bleak that day. A dreary silence rested amongst the canvas of the clouds, somewhat stifling and strangely contagious, in her case at least. 

Driving, Rickon had spoken to her, endless words and topics. She never understood how a constant stream seemed to go through his mind, never seeming to miss a beat, along with that smile of his, that even alongside the darkening clouds, never seemed to dim. Lyanna listened to him, watching as his hand waved along with his words when it wasn’t rested on the gearshift. 

With his car parked on the side of the road, Rickon unclipped his seatbelt and stared back at her with a smile, an arm thrown leisurely over his steering wheel. 

Lyanna undid her own seatbelt and leaned into him, pulling him by his shirt collar before kissing him softly. Her lips moved against his slowly, wanting time to stand still for just a moment. 

Cars drove past them, sending a breeze into the opened windows, it made her want to hold him closer. 

At this moment she wondered again if she should mention her plans to leave in June but fought the instinct.

Lyanna pulled away, putting her forehead against his, keeping her eyes closed as she let her hands pass down his shirt. “Open up the back, I’ll take my stuff and get going,” she whispered, not wanting her voice to break either of them out of their little bubble. 

Rickon pulled away from her, with a hand cupping the back of her neck, “Lee, you don’t expect me to just leave you here, do you?” He questioned, taken aback by her assumption. 

“I can carry my bags up myself.”

“Of course, I know you can,” he said somewhat indignantly, “but just let me help you bring your stuff up anyway and I’ll leave you at the door. I don’t even have to meet your sister if that’s what you’re worried about.” He leaned back in his seat, propping his elbow on the door. 

“I didn’t fucking mean it like that, okay?” Lyanna bit back, tightening her ponytail and looking at the road. 

Rickon passed a hand through his hair, “Did I say anything?” he asked, holding his hand up in question.

“Your tone did,” she rebuked, her voice raised slightly in irritation. 

She shook her head, letting the silence permeate through them for a moment until she stared back at him. His gaze was on the road outside his window and he was still sat loosely in his seat. His thumb passed over his lips idly as he looked to be in thought. 

Lyanna watched Rickon, he was probably aware by now that she was, but she sat against the door, wind tickling her neck from the opened window. 

“Rickon.” 

He turned his head to her, his head in the palm of his hand as he did. 

“Stop assuming shit,” Lyanna told him, she was being completely sincere but ended up laughing at the end and taking his hand into hers, “I just didn’t think of asking you to help me take my stuff up.” 

Rickon stared down at their hands, “Yeah, no, sorry,” he said, “I think I’m just a bit off today.” 

“Are we going to sit in this car forever… or?” 

He laughed, his smile growing on his face again. Rickon let go of her hand, holding the steering wheel as he leaned over to unlock the boot. 

Rickon stood at her side, lifting the boot up as she reached in for her bags.

“So am I allowed to help you?” 

Lyanna glared at him, pulling her suitcase out and putting it onto the pavement. Rickon took it in his hand as she held her duffle onto her shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Rickon said jokingly, “please don’t stop sleeping with me.” 

She looked away from him, faking a gagging sound, “Decision’s already been made, it’s too late now.” 

Lyanna stared up at him with a grin as he closed the boot of his car, beginning to laugh. Rickon’s blue eyes fixed on her, “We’ll see about that,” he told her, making her stomach flip. _Stupid,_ she thought.

* * *

Rickon and Lyanna made their way up to her sister’s building, both carrying her bags, not quite mentioning the little ripple in their moods.

Lyanna hadn’t thought about there being any level of anxiety surrounding him meeting one of her sisters, even if she’d met all his siblings save for Bran. But with her sisters, came their idiocy and determination to embarrass one another. Maybe this would be her karma for mentioning the time Lyra pissed herself during The Silence of the Lambs in front of one of her boyfriends. 

“Stop walking so fast,” Rickon told Lyanna, breaking her out of her thoughts, not realising how many steps she was taking up the stairs. She fell back to his side, noticing how he reached out for her with his free hand. 

Lyanna wordlessly took his hand in hers. She held interlaced their fingers, pulling him tighter to her as she adjusted the duffle on her shoulder, finally making it to the fifth floor. 

“Fair warning, Jorelle is a bit of a psycho,” Lyanna said, turning to him before knocking on the door. 

“Yeah, that’s okay, I’ve had my fair share of psycho,” Rickon set the suitcase down by his feet, running a hand through his hair before noticing her expression. “By that, I mean that Sansa is a bit high strung… ha, I don’t mean _that_.” 

Lyanna held back her laugh, biting back a smile before letting go of his hand and knocking the door. They waited awhile, Lyanna leaned against the door frame as they did. She knocked again, five minutes later. “Jory, what the fuck.” She knocked louder. 

Jorelle finally opened the door, swinging it open, drying her hair with a towel. “Can’t give me a minute to put some bloody clothes on, can you?” She walked backwards into her flat, smiling as Rickon brought Lyanna’s suitcase inside. 

“Rickon, my older sister, Jorelle,” Lyanna introduced, setting her back down by the suitcase as well, “Jory, Rickon Stark.” 

“Please call me ‘ _Jory_ ’,” she watched her sister eye Rickon, knowing she’d hear an earful about it when they were alone. 

“Nice to meet you, Jory,” Rickon held out his hand to her, signature smile on his face, _Gods she was gone._

“You look even better than in the pictures,” Jorelle told him, taking his hand. 

“Pictures?” Rickon laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Would you like to stay for tea?” Rickon glanced at Lyanna at her sister’s offer, she only grinned, sitting on the armrest of the one seater sofa. 

“Do you even have tea in this flat, Jory?” Lyanna remarked, knowing her sister did not drink tea or coffee. 

“I mean, I don’t drink it, but Aly says that’s what you offer your little sister’s boyfriend when he comes over,” Lyanna threw a punch at her sister’s shoulder. 

Rickon smiled at her, taking a seat on the sofa where Lyanna was draped. “I can drink anything really,” he offered politely. 

“When did you get an undercut?” Lyanna interrupted, craning her neck to get a better look at her sister’s hair.

“Uh, recently,” she replied, patting down her hair. 

“I think it looks good on you, I tried convincing my brother Bran to get one but he wouldn’t listen,” Rickon added, finger lining the seam of the armrest.

Lyanna let out a laugh and played with one of his curls, “The flannel and pixie cut wasn’t enough of a label for the girls?” 

“I’m sorry, Lya, staring intensely at a girl until she realises I’m into her doesn’t work for me like it does for you.” 

Rickon began laughing, shaking his head at Lyanna, “That’s how you pick up girls, Lee?”

“Fuck off, it’s worked so far,” Lyanna told him, “It’s not much better than telling a bartender she has great eyes.”

Jorelle stared at them in amusement.

“I like that thing you do with your eyes, makes you look really intense.”

“My makeup— you hit on me cause you liked my smokey eye?” 

“No,” Rickon shook his head, not explaining further. 

Jorelle disappeared into the kitchen. As soon as her sister left, Lyanna felt Rickon’s arms around her waist, pulling her off the armrest and into his lap. 

“Why does your sister think we’re dating?” Rickon continued smiling at her, his fingers pushing stray hairs out of her face. 

“Ignore her, she knows we aren’t so that’s why she said it,” but weren’t they pretty much there, despite putting it into words? 

“And what pictures?” 

“I haven’t a clue,” Lyanna shook her head, smiling at him. 

Lyanna got up off of Rickon and sat on one of the two-seater sofas before her sister could come into the room and make a comment. She sat with her feet up, tucked underneath her, turned to Rickon. He stared at her with a somewhat dazed smile that seemed to be catching to her own lips. 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” Rickon shook his head with a laugh, “your tits look class in that.” He gestured at her, before passing his thumb over his lips. 

Lyanna threw a throw pillow at him, which he easily caught, “Arse,” she said with a laugh. 

“See, now you’re just teasing me,” Rickon raised his eyebrows. 

“I would never, not in my sister’s flat.”

“Don’t act so self-righteous, you’ve made me touch you in the pub’s parking lot.” 

“I have more of these pillows here,” Lyanna threatened mockingly. 

“Throw them at me if you want.”

“Yeah, you’re depraved enough to like that, aren’t you?”

“And you’re depraved right alongside me, Lee,” he told her, making a move to get up until her sister walked into the room. 

“When did you buy a teapot?” Lyanna asked her sister suddenly, amused by the steaming pot she brought.

“It was a gift, so this is the first time it’s being used,” Jorelle said, 

She poured 3 cups, sitting down on the sofa opposite Lyanna, Rickon on the one-seater between them. Lyanna could see the questions brimming in Jorelle’s eyes as she watched him with a keen eye before leaning back against the sofa. 

“I like the art you have up,” Rickon filled in the silence, pointing at the canvas hanging in the corner of the room. 

“Lyra did that last year for my birthday,” Jorelle told him. 

Rickon nodded, reaching out for his cup, “She’s a bit older than the two of you, yeah?”

Lyanna saw the surprise on her sister’s face at Rickon knowing about their older sister.

“Yeah, she is,” Jorelle made a face as she sipped her tea, “Are you an only child?” 

“Youngest of six actually.”

“Gods and I thought our mother was crazy for having 5 kids.” 

“Yeah,” Rickon smiled, bringing his mug to his lips, the mug was engulfed by his hand, he held it between his thumb and one finger, easily drinking it down.

“What do they do?” 

“Well, Arya, one of my sisters actually runs the bar Lyanna works at.”

“What, really?” Jorelle turned to Lyanna. 

“Yeah, my boss, Gendry, dates his sister.” 

“Then Sansa and Bran aren’t in the North, but my older brothers work at-“ he cleared his throat, “at Stark & Associates,” Rickon said, scratching the bridge of his nose nervously. 

“Your family owns that big law firm in the city?” 

Lyanna saw Rickon’s rigidity at the topic, “Yeah, uh- something like that,” he reached forward to set his empty mug of on the table. She’d already had a sip of her own, knowing Jorelle’s tea was not at all fit for consumption. 

Jorelle nodded, “When did you two start dating?” she asked, looking at the cup of tea in her hand with a confused look. 

“Jory, what the fuck?” Lyanna yelled at her sister. 

Jorelle threw her hands up, “Am I not allowed to ask?” She asked, tone just as frustrated as Lyanna’s.

“It’s okay, we aren’t… together, really,” Rickon brushed off with a somewhat strained laugh.

“Which she knows,” Lyanna sighed, glaring at her sister.

She noticed Rickon’s change in expression as he tried to hide away in his head though his lips were still turned into a smile. 

Rickon checked his watch, “I’ve got training soon, so I’m gonna head off,” he said. 

“Oh, what do you train for?” 

“I swim,” Rickon told her, “I’ve got a swim meet coming up in the summer.”

“Impressive,” Jorelle said with raised brows. 

“Ha, thank you,” Rickon stood up from his seat, “well, it was nice meeting you, Jory. Thank you for the tea.” Rickon set his mug on the table and held a hand out to her sister, giving it a firm shake before patting down his trousers. 

“It was nice meeting you too.”

He stared at Lyanna for a moment, looking away when he pulled out his keys. 

“Bye then.” 

Rickon headed out, running a hand through his hair. Lyanna heard the door close, taking a moment of indecision before getting up from the sofa and heading out of Jorelle’s flat without a word to her sister who had just been sitting across from her. 

“Rickon,” Lyanna called out.

His head turned at the sound of her voice, not even waiting for her to say anything else, he jogged back up the stairs and in her direction. Rickon pulled her in with both hands cupping her face, his lips colliding into hers without an ounce of hesitation. 

Lyanna let herself be consumed by the hypnotising feeling of him. Her back hit the closed door as he deepened the kiss. She felt her heart lift as if being tugged at by him. 

Rickon pulled away for only a moment, only to pull her back in, lowering a hand into the back pocket of her jeans, tugging her tighter to him as his tongue teased hers. Her hands brushed against his skin under his t-shirt as she gripped his waist. 

Rickon pulled away, mingling breaths as they steadied themselves. He leaned against her forehead, swallowing heavily, with his eyes still shut, “Fuck- what are you doing to me, Lee?”

It didn’t sound like a question that was meant to be answered by her, more like something he was asking himself, or someone with more wisdom than either of them. But Lyanna understood the meaning behind his words and it left a feeling of dread in her, she knew what she was doing to him. It was evident that he was in love with her, or a beat away from it at least. 

He held onto her for a moment longer before opening his eyes, the intensity of his blue eyes met hers. There was a solemn look on his face, but he cracked a smile, one which took to her face too. 

Lyanna played with the collar of his shirt, meeting his eyes. She could easily count the freckles that painted his face this way. “Kiss me again, Rickon,” she told him. 

Rickon dipped his head, putting his lips on hers, making her heart stutter again. It was thoroughly intoxicating, being in love, the way she felt her heart thrum against her ribcage. She could spend the rest of her days feeling the giddiness of love’s pull, bathing in his kisses and the sound of his voice. But Lyanna knew better than to let herself be swayed by a feeling, even if it was apparent by the gleam in his eyes. It washed over her like a wave matching the colour of his eyes.

His body pressed against hers as his grip tightened on her waist. She felt it in the way his kisses bloomed from gentle hesitation to a longing hunger that was always rooted in her core as well. 

Lyanna felt him pull away. Rickon stared down at her with darkened eyes, taking deep breaths. Her chest rose unsteadily as she felt the thickened air between them. 

He detached himself from her, adjusting his trousers as the stifling silence took root. 

Lyanna watched the way he ran his fingers through his hair, her back firmly against the door to her sister’s flat. There seemed not to be a proper way to say goodbye between them. She passed her fingers over her lips and the impression he left, thinking perhaps that was a farewell enough. 

“I’ll see you in three weeks then?” 

He stared at her in question as he reached into his pocket for his keys, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Yeah,” she nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. 

Rickon stared at her for a moment longer, his tongue darting out to lick his lips, drawing her attention there. He took a step forward, kissing her a final time, his thumb passed over her cheek. 

Lyanna bit the inside of her cheek as he took a step away from her. She watched him leave, with a hand on the back of his head, he descended the stairs, out of view. She stood there a while longer just to round up her thoughts and regain her composure before facing her sister again.

When she re-entered the flat, she was met with Jorelle still on the sofa but laying back with an arm thrown over her face. Lyanna didn’t say anything, taking a seat on the one-seater and putting her feet up under her. 

It was awhile later when she’d been going through her phone, answering Myrcella’s texts _yes, i fed malbec_ , when Jorelle uncovered her eyes. 

“You okay?” 

Lyanna looked up from her phone, to meet her sister’s questioning gaze, “Yeah?” She answered, continuing to tap her screen. 

“I like Rickon. Very sweet, ridiculously good looking too,” she said, tone laced with laughter. 

“Yeah,” Lyanna replied, eyes fixed on her phone. 

Jorelle sat up, moving closer to the edge of her sofa to ger nearer to Lyanna, “You like him?” She questioned. 

Lyanna looked up at her older sister, “Yeah, I like him. Why would I spend time with him if I didn’t?” Lyanna dodged. 

“I think it’s a little more than like,” Jorelle prodded.

She put her phone down at the pointed statement, “Think what you want, Jory,” she shrugged, “but I know what you’re trying to get at.” 

“He’s in love with you, you know that, don’t you?” 

Somehow she felt that one, in her chest, up to her throat. Lyanna knew, of course.

“What do you know?” Lyanna laughed. 

“I saw how he looks at you,” Jory told her pointedly. 

Lyanna rolled her eyes, shifting in her seat to sit sideways with her legs hanging off the armrest. She glared at Jorelle and her raised eyebrows. 

“Stop it,” Lyanna told her sister, looking away from her. It was enough that she could see it, see what she was doing to him, but she hardly wanted to hear her sister confirm it to her. 

“I saw how you two are together,” Jorelle said, “Why do you pretend you aren’t dating then?” 

“We don’t pretend, we just _aren’t_ dating.” 

“Well, why not?” 

“Why would I date him when I’m moving back home soon?” Lyanna responded, her tone rising in irritation, “There’s really no point.” 

“And he’s just okay with the fact that you’re leaving?” 

Lyanna sighed, sitting up properly and facing her older sister, her sister was capable of reading her silence.

“He doesn’t know?” 

“No…” Lyanna started, her voice trailing off as she came to terms with the fact that this was one thing in her life she had been putting off for as long as she could.

“Are you planning on telling him sometime soon?” 

“I don’t know, Jory,” she exhaled heavily, shaking her head and tightening her ponytail. “If I tell him, he’ll probably _actually_ admit his feelings. And I know he loves me, it’s blatantly there in everything he does.” 

“But isn’t that a good thing?” Jorelle wondered aloud, “If he loves you?”

“It isn’t a good thing. Not at all,” Lyanna began explaining, “He’ll dismiss my moving as nothing and most likely bring up long distance… even though _I know_ long distance could never work for us… I don’t want us to grow sick of each other because it’ll be months until either of us can actually meet, I don’t want us to just slowly drift away, I don’t want him to grow to hate me because I’m the thing in the way of him getting laid.” Lyanna dropped her head into her palm against the armrest, “So if I tell him and he does suggest long distance… I’m going to let him talk me into it. Rickon is… he’s so fucking headstrong and he’s relentless, he _will_ fucking convince me, I know he will because even part of me wants to hold onto him longer.” 

Lyanna took a deep breath and Jorelle stared at her in silence. 

“I just don’t want us to end things as two people who are bored of each other. Not when things between us have never been boring, not even for a minute.” Lyanna finished, tightening her ponytail again and rethinking the words she had just said. 

“So what will you do, then, Lya?”

“I don’t know, I’ll sort it out when I’m back.”

Jorelle looked down at her hands, tracing the lines on her palms before looking up at Lyanna from where she sat on the other sofa, “But you love him?” 

Lyanna met her eyes, the familiarity of them, there was a sense of comfort in them that once reminded her of home, but now it just left her unsettled, “I don’t know,” Lyanna lied. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading   
> lots of love,   
> [fineosaur](https://fineosaur.tumblr.com)


	7. don't let me drown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With his mother’s _“oh?”_ of surprise, Rickon felt his face begin to redden at his assertion. Because he remembered who he was talking to. 
> 
> “Have you known her long?” 
> 
> “About a year.” 
> 
> “Do you love her?” 
> 
> “I don’t know,” Rickon told her, his voice was small as he said the words, something he rarely was, “maybe.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from: cherry cola - kuwada

_april_

_rickon_

When he’d walked into the house he was met with an eerie silence that told him he was early, something he wasn’t very used to being. 

It was a windy day, so the sheer curtains wafted into the room with the breeze, blowing back in as the rustling of the trees outside filled the silence. The door was always open, there was never much use for knocking, not in a big house such as this one, no one would hear. It still smelled like home though, and it made him nervous. 

Rickon walked through the entryway, past the staircase, living room coming into closer view. The windows brought a crisp breeze into the light room. It seemed frozen in time, everything exactly where he always remembered it all to be, vases, photo frames, the grand piano in the corner of the room. All except the boxes that littered the rug, in the middle of it, his mother sat silently. 

“Mum?” 

Catelyn turned to the entrance of the room, where he stood. A smile rose to her face at the sight of him, it made him uneasy, her words from just a few weeks prior still hung around his mind when he couldn’t sleep. But he returned her smile, rubbing the back of his neck as he walked closer to her, pocketing his car keys. 

“I didn’t expect you so early,” his mother stood up from the rug, patting down her trousers. 

She walked towards him, kissing him on the cheek. Catelyn stood there, trying to push his hair back, out of his forehead, not saying a word as she took him in. It was an odd moment, just having her search his face. 

“What are you doing with all this?” Rickon asked, with her hand still on his face he looked past her shoulder at the mess strewn over the floor. He recognised the boxes and the albums and books that laid there. 

Catelyn turned, eyeing the clutter before picking up a few folded clothes. He watched her set them on the sofa, “I had all your baby things brought down, you, your brothers and sisters’ things.” 

“Yeah? Is this Robb’s baby book?” Rickon asked, lifting a red book off the coffee table. 

“It is, yes,” she took a similar one off the floor, with a blue book jacket, “I was just looking through yours.” 

Rickon didn’t know how to respond with the book being put into his hands, but he supposed it made sense why his mother was acting so teary-eyed. 

“Ah, did you take down the cot as well?” Rickon continued, crouching down to the leaf through one of the smaller albums. His chest tightened, something he didn’t think would ever go away when he came across the grin that would occasionally grace his father’s face. 

“I did, I’m going to have it cleaned up and varnished well before the due date,” Catelyn told him, dropping down next to him and taking out an album that hid underneath the one he was looking through. “Look at this one.” She turned to the first page. He hadn’t seen the picture in years, his first picture, still shut eyed and pink, held in his mother’s arms with his father grinning beside her, “Five children and he still had that beaming smile each time one of you showed up.” 

Rickon swallowed, glad that for the least, over the years his mother grew more comfortable talking about his father, the taciturn man who always had smiles and kind words when it came to his family. His eyes caught on a stuffed animal sticking out of his box. Rickon reached out for it, wanting to diverge from their grim moods. 

“When’s the due date then?” Rickon asked, holding the small dog toy, one of the eyes were missing and the nose severely chewed. He smiled at the toy, reminded of his long-dead pet. Shaggydog was hardly a pet though, he felt like an extension of himself. He remembered trying to get the disobedient dog to pose quietly as he attempted his first few photography endeavours, he was hardly ever successful. 

Catelyn began tidying up the albums, putting them back into one of the empty boxes, “Robb says the birth is expected early June but he’s already worrying himself over it.” That sounded like Robb. 

“At least Theon is there to help him remember that he doesn’t have to deal with all that stuff alone.” 

Catelyn watched him, stilling her hands as she met his eyes. He tried to avoid her, distracting himself with the photo frames that lined one of the end tables. There were ones filled with smiles, others with serious looks where he knew his mother had told them all not to be stupid. 

“And what about you?” 

Rickon met her gaze, after straightening one of the frames, “Hmm?” He watched her wipe her hands on the side of her beige trousers, walking towards him. 

“Why didn’t you bring your significant other over to meet us?” 

“She’s out of town,” Rickon responded without skipping a beat, he straightened his back when he realised what had happened. _We’re not really dating._

“That’s good, my sweetling,” Catelyn said, putting a hand on his cheek, he leaned into it for a moment, remembering the name she’d use for him when he was younger, “When is she back?” 

Rickon had somehow found himself looped in a conversation he dreaded but given his current elation when it came to Lyanna, he tried not to let anything get him down whilst she was gone. There was a tug between wanting to talk about her endlessly and the fact that he hadn’t been given the right to do so just yet, “She’s gone for three weeks,” Rickon cringed at the lie that they were dating, it left a feeling of trepidation in him, but he had to hope for better when she returned. He brought his fingers onto the keys of the piano, each key he hit made it clear that the instrument needed to be tuned. 

“Am I allowed to ask her name?” 

“Lyanna.” 

She smiled, nodding at the name, “Where has she gone?” Catelyn pried further. 

“She’s visiting home. Bear Island.” 

“Your father used to have some business in Bear Island... he’d take me with him at times, beautiful place.”

“Really?” 

“What is she like?” 

_What’s she like? He couldn’t even begin to describe Lyanna in a way that would make sense to anyone but himself._ Rickon laughed lightly at the question, looking at his mother with a smile. 

“She’s incredible,” he told her.

With his mother’s “ _oh?_ ” of surprise, Rickon felt his face begin to redden at his assertion. Because he remembered who he was talking to. 

“Have you known her long?” 

“About a year.” 

“Do you love her?” 

“I don’t know,” Rickon told her, his voice was small as he said the words, something he rarely was, “maybe.” 

She smiled, turning her head to the sound the door being slammed. Rickon felt relief flood him, knowing he wouldn’t be interrogated further. 

He noticed his sister walk in, Gendry lagging behind her with hands stuffed in his pockets. Arya looked bright as ever, not taking notice of either of them as she turned behind and began pulling Gendry with her. It brought a smile to Rickon’s face to see the way Arya managed to coax Gendry out of his reticent shell. 

He looped his arm around her shoulder. Arya finally smiled widely at Rickon, though they’d met just last week. He noticed the stern look that took over Gendry’s expression as they walked into the living room. 

Arya kissed Catelyn on the cheek, elbowing Rickon in the side as Gendry greeted her with an extended hand, a nod and “Catelyn,” said gruffly. He gave Rickon a pat on the back before falling back to Arya’s side as she threw herself on the sofa. 

“Are these our baby books?” Arya asked, leaning forward and taking the leather-covered books into her lap, “If you go through Robb’s you’ll see he’s clearly the most impressive, he started crawling at 6 months, we all started after 8 months.” 

Gendry chuckled at her assertion, flipping through the one that had her name gilded in silver over it. 

Rickon took a seat opposite the couple, toy still in his grasp as his mother disappeared. 

“Why are you so early, Rickon?” Arya finally asked, tossing the books back onto the coffee table. 

He checked the watch on his wrist, fiddling with the leather strap. “I didn’t know what time it was, I just came here straight from the gym, I didn’t bother checking the time cause I assumed I’d be late,” he told her. Both she and Gendry laughed knowingly at his usual tardiness. “Do you know if Bran came home?” 

“No, he says he’s got too much work,” Arya’s fingers traced along Gendry’s knee, with his leg folded over the other, he took up even more space than he already usually would. “Sansa can’t come either. But I get that, she’s further away in the Vale.” He nodded, disappointedly. 

Rickon took out his phone, wanting to message Lyanna again, as he had that morning. But he avoided it, making conversation with Arya and Gendry instead, Arya mentioning one of the new trainers at their gym. He listened as she went on to Gendry about one of her students who apparently had a thing for her. 

Rickon couldn’t help but feel a slight distance that seemed to be growing between him and Bran, wondering how it had gone over a year since they’d seen one another and the way their contact had slowly dwindled. Because if anything, he should have known that Bran was too busy to make it home, as he had been for every break and holiday in the last year and a half. 

* * *

The weather was tolerable outside. With the grill on, along with the salivating smells, there was a shadow of warmth that swayed along with the crisp spring breeze. 

At the grill, Arya and Gendry spoke in laughs and glares, soft voices that he couldn’t make out from where he stood, watching the tree line of the Wolfswood. 

As daunting as the forest looked, he knew how inviting it could be and now, part of him wanted to retreat back to it. He fell in so easily with the laughter and restful feeling of home but the unnerving presence of his siblings’ relationships. It wasn’t as if he felt any envy, more that he wondered if he was deluding himself into thinking he was anywhere near ready for what they all shared. 

As his self-destructive thoughts ate away at him, he remembered the photos of Lyanna that he had decided to get printed. Rickon wondered about his analogue camera he once had, thinking to rummage through his old room in search for it, hoping he could still use it if he just bought some new film.

He was broken out of his thoughts by Arya’s voice, cutting through the seamless silence, settling into a bustling conversation between the other members at the table.

“Do you guys know the sex yet?” Arya asked, basting the cuts of lamb on the grill. Gendry stood beside her with a pair of tongs, looking at Robb when she asked her question. 

It had been obvious to him, that Robb and Theon would be the first to have children. They had that way about them, where once he’d known about the adoption, nothing made more sense than that. So it was natural that their whole family was anxious to meet the first grandchild of the family. 

“No, we want it to be a surprise,” Robb replied, pouring his cocktail from the blender into a glass jug. 

“By we, he means, he does,” Theon added. Rickon watched as Theon sliced up limes with a sliver of grace, “I want a baby girl.” He shrugged, dumping his freshly cut lime slices into Robb’s jug haphazardly, an irritated look crossing Robb’s face. 

“Which would you prefer, Robb?” Rickon asked. 

He took one of the limes Theon had just begun cutting again and putting it between his teeth. Robb’s look of disgust was enough to make his mood get better infinitely, but then Robb laughed, shaking his head. 

“I wouldn’t mind any,” Robb said with a smile, mixing the cocktail with a wooden spoon. “A baby is a baby.” 

Rickon watched Robb’s concentration on the margarita, as he gestured to Theon silently, making him taste. Sharing a kiss after Theon gave him a little thumbs up of approval. 

“When’s the baby shower?” Satin asked, he held out a glass to Robb to be filled. 

“Are we having one?” Theon looked at Robb, who only shrugged. 

“Don’t say that too loud, Mum will hear and start planning one,” Rickon joked. 

He took the glass Satin offered him, filled with Robb’s cocktail, promptly leaning against the wicker table.

“Ah yes, next thing you know, Sansa will be flying back home as well,” Jon added to Rickon’s joke. 

“Sansa didn’t say anything about coming back to me— is she coming home?” Catelyn’s voice came in, all faces snapping to her as she brought out an ice bucket and placed it in the middle of the table. Satin quickly added two cubes to his drink and sat back. 

“No mum, it was a joke,” Arya came to the table, leaving Gendry by the grill.

“Is Bran coming back anytime soon?” Rickon looked down at his mother, who stood at his side.

“He’s busy is all I know,” Catelyn smoothed down the tablecloth, “you should call him and ask him yourself.” 

Rickon nodded, taking a sip of the cocktail Satin had handed him. Maybe he would.

* * *

Rickon had seamlessly fallen into his second week off, preoccupied with training and studying, he’d still found plenty of time to meet his friends, finding that with the burden of their last year, they had hardly found time to hang out. 

In the typically buzzy interior of Gendry’s pub, _Smith’s Steel_ , Rickon was surrounded by laughter, smiles and wafts of beer. 

Despite his mind occasionally wandering to the phone call he’d had with Lyanna the night before, he still managed to pay the slightest attention to the conversations at hand.

“Where’s Tommen tonight?” Jeyne asked, holding onto Brax’s hand where he had draped it over her shoulder. 

Shireen laughed, “Dick appointment,” she said, downing her drink, “he’s got the flat to himself tonight. Thank god cause his headboard is a fucking nightmare.” 

“Can’t he bolt it to the wall?” Wylde added, leaning against the table. Not long after, Dickon took his hand in his. Mathis shook his head at this twin brother’s sappiness. 

“Have you seen Tommen try to use tools?” Shireen stated. 

“Fair point,” Wylde nodded, winding his fingers between Dickon’s. 

Rickon had met most of his friends in his first year, not counting the ones he had known back in high school. They all seemed to somehow fall into an easy friendship shortly after he had gotten close to Brax and Monty. It was hard to think of a time where he hadn’t known the two of them. Once Dickon had began dating Wylde, it hadn’t been long after that he had joined their group as well along with Jeyne who had become close to Bethany. 

If he ever imagined in high school that he’d end up in a tight-knit with Bethany, Dickon and Mathis along with Shireen and Tommen, he’d think he was crazy. But times changed, they’d all grown up and the sheltered walls of their high school was mostly a distant memory. 

“Bethany went home for the break, right?” Monty’s deep voice cut through the fading laughter. 

“Give it up Monty, I distinctly remember her saying something about a guy back home,” Brax cut in, Jeyne at his side threw a few peanuts at him. Rickon watched the look they shared, the only time he’d ever see either of them make their relationship obvious was through their eyes.

“She did not say that. She said she… sometimes meets up with an old friend when she goes back home,” Rickon corrected, voice turning to soft laughter as he realised his implications did nothing for Monty’s mood. 

He gently slid away from the table when Brax thought it was time to remind everyone about last year’s spring break in the Westerlands. With a face strained, aching from laughter, Rickon walked up to the bar. He was hardly in the right mood to be mocked for being caught pants down on one of Brax’s family boats. 

“How’re you holding up, lad?” Grenn asked.

For a moment Rickon watched as he fiddled with the roll of receipt paper before Willow swooped in to help out. 

“Gendry’s said not to let you touch this,” Willow laughed, taking the paper from him. 

“I’m doing alright,” Rickon responded, watching Willow struggle for a moment, “think I can get a bottle of water though, Grenn?” 

The broad man nodded, lowering himself to search through the fridges that lined the bottom of the bar. After excusing himself for a moment, Grenn disappeared into the back room. 

“Is it sorted?” 

Willow looked up, closing the latch of the till, “Now it is,” she told him with a laugh, “can I get you something?” 

Rickon leaned against the bar, about to politely decline Willow’s request before Jeyne slid up onto the stool beside him, asking for a draft refill.

“Where’s Lyanna tonight?” She asked, glancing back at their table before turning back to Rickon. 

“She’s back home for the break,” Rickon replied, watching as she sipped the foam at the top of her beer, “but I thought you and Brax were going to the Westerlands this month?” 

Her eyes widened before she set her pint down, laughing lightly, shaking her head at him. 

“What’s up, Brook?” He asked, turning properly to her. 

“Nothing,” she shook her head, “but I told Jon maybe it was best if I met his parents later on.” 

Rickon chuckled, “Yeah, Flement and Morya Brax are a handful.” 

“Mhm, I heard Jon’s mum couldn’t stand Monty, last time you three went down south?” Jeyne nodded with a smile, “I can’t be disappointing his parents just months into dating.” 

“Come on, Brook, you’re hardly a disappointment— I mean, who enjoys maths?” 

“He gets it though,” she shrugged. 

Rickon pulled himself up onto one of the stools, blankly wondering where Grenn had ended up with his water, “If it makes you feel any better, I met one of Lyanna’s older sisters last week.” 

“That does make me feel better actually.” 

“Does it?” 

Jeyne nodded, “How did that go?” 

“Went decently actually.” 

The day Lyanna left had remained prominent in his mind, from the moment he’d woken up to her, to the way her fingers felt in his hair as he stared up at her from between her legs, he even found himself thinking about their last kiss one too many times. 

“Oh yeah?” Jeyne’s sweet voice broke him out of his thoughts, “She didn’t try the big sister act or anything with you, especially with you?” 

“Especially with me— something wrong with me?” Rickon tried joking. 

“Gods, no!” Jeyne began laughing, “No, I mean, you and her are always insistent about the fact that you aren’t dating, I just know that my brother would hate you on principle.” 

“Ah, yeah, I don’t know if her sister wanted to accept that we aren’t dating, given by how many times she’d brought it up. “

“Maybe it’s time you just say fuck all and finally date then?” 

“Ha, maybe,” Rickon dropped his head shaking it with a laugh, “I _have_ been thinking of it, can you believe?” 

“If you’d asked me that a year ago, I’d say no way in any of the seven hells,” Jeyne began, pausing as Grenn finally set a bottle of water in front of Rickon, “but now, I wouldn’t be surprised if you two suddenly got hitched.” 

“You’re a couple hundred steps too far ahead there.” 

“Yeah, maybe,” Jeyne shrugged, “but I like her effect on you.” 

Rickon smiled, looking down at the scratched-up wood of the bar, “I can’t have been too bad before?” 

“You weren’t, but I’m glad you grew out of _certain habits_.” 

“There’s no need to call me a whore, Brook,” Rickon joked.

Jeyne hopped off of her stool, “Someone’s got to say it.” She shrugged. 

Both of them walked back to their table in pensive silence. Rickon tried not to let his mind wander that night, choosing to focus on the banter going on as he was brought back to reality with Wylde calling Monty out yet again for bringing up Bethany.

* * *

As another week droned on, Rickon had found it harder to stop thinking about a million different possibilities and outcomes to seeing Lyanna again. They all began with taking her over various surfaces in her flat and ended with him telling her how he felt. 

The first week or two had left him on a high, but with their break coming to an end and not hearing from her in days, he wondered what she had gotten up to and if maybe he was the only one who had her voice on a loop, leaving him on the balance of uncertainty. 

He’d been lying in bed wondering whether or not he would be bothering her if he called her up. Her voice from the heated phone call they had just days prior went through his head and it seemed like he was unable to think of much else, well that and her breathy voice as she called him. His thoughts teetered from her moans to her _“Rickon, I miss you,”_ at the end of their call. 

Rickon took his phone, bright light burning his tired eyes as he went to their chat, he typed out a quick few words out to see if she was up.

Thoughts of her voice were all that plagued his mind, whilst sure when he couldn’t sleep his thoughts would stray to her breathy moans and the velvety sound of her voice as she spoke his name, but his restlessness was caused by something different this time. By the way, she had hesitated before she had admitted to missing him. 

It was an hour later when his phone lit up, a call coming in from Lyanna’s number, the name _‘lee’_ flashed on his screen, as his phone vibrated. Rickon let his phone go off for a while, a moment of indecision before he muted his phone, and set it aside, rolling over on his pillow, choosing to sleep despite the frown that creased his brows. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!  
> (shout out to [yanak324](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yanak324) , for tolerating the obscene amount i talk about this fic and for always being the best help)  
> lots of love,  
> [fineosaur](https://fineosaur.tumblr.com)


	8. but for a moment we were able to be still

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His voice came in again, hearing the exaggerated sigh he’d do when he stretched himself over the bed, _“How was your day, Lee?”_ He asked, his voice dripping with the exuberance she only ever associated with him.
> 
> Her heart fluttered again as she took a deep breath in and out. _She was definitely going to miss him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from: no choir - florence + the machine

__

_april_

_lyanna_

The climate of Bear Island didn’t differ much from that of the mainland. It remained steadily cool in spring, bringing a pleasing warmth from the sun that lit up the overlooking lake. There was still a coldness that ran through her, despite the sun’s ability to settle the type of chill that ran through one’s bones, she felt it more in her chest and took it as a feeling of foreboding. There was nothing more restless than knowing exactly where she’d be in two months. 

Lyanna had easily fallen back into the routine of having her older sisters pester her about everything, despite only being two years younger than Jorelle, she was still considered the youngest cub and was constantly grilled about the slightest of things. 

With their mother gone out early, her sisters and she would spend breakfast together before going off to the office to meet her. Whilst Lyra made crepes at the stove with Jory, Dacey took Cregan out of Alysane’s arms leaving her to wrangle their niece. Lyanna stared at her phone making a move to respond to the first message she’d gotten from Rickon since leaving Winterfell. 

_rickon: how are you coping?_

She smiled at the message, wondering to herself what had him up so early. If anything she knew his weird ability to sleep in till noon and the next day be up at the crack of dawn for a run.

_lyanna: having breakfast with my sisters. why are you up?_

_rickon: training_

_rickon: it’s been a week and i’m already considering breaking one of my rules_

_lyanna: yeah? and what rule is that?_

_rickon: i’m one thread away from asking you for nudes_

Lyanna bit her lip to stop herself from laughing aloud, seriously questioning her sanity when a message such as this one made her miss him. 

_lyanna: you say that like i’d ever refuse._

She covered her mouth with her hand, waiting for his response. 

_rickon: gods_

_rickon: this won’t be funny when i have to get into my swim trunks and i’m hard_

_lyanna: hmm. tough luck._

“Who’s got you smiling so hard, Lya?” Dacey called out loudly, making Cregan jump in her arms. Dacey soothed the baby in her arms, putting the bottle back into his mouth and swaying. 

“What are you talking about?” Lyanna evaded, schooling her features again as she put her phone down on the table and lifted her mug to her lips, sipping the hot coffee and promptly burning her tongue. 

“You were just beaming at your phone, who’s the girl?” Dacey asked, all her sisters turned to her curiously, all waiting for her answer in amusement. 

“There's no girl.” 

Jorelle scoffed, biting into an apple and announcing to the rest of their sisters, “That’s 'cause she’s got a man.” 

Lyanna glared at her sister, “Stop making it sound like he’s some forty year old.” 

“So, there is someone?” Dacey snickered, still swaying Cregan in her arms. 

“You’re dating a boy, Lya?” Alysane questioned softly, wiping the corner of little Teora’s mouth. 

“I’m not dating anyone,” Lyanna corrected, watching her phone light up once more. She flipped the phone face down and turned back to her sisters, wondering what the message said. 

“Who is he?” Lyra added, turning to Jorelle. “Have you met him, Jory?” 

Lyanna folded her lips, staring Jorelle down. 

“His name is Rickon,” Jorelle announced, pulling her phone out of the pocket of her trousers. Staring at the screen for a moment before walking over to their older sisters. 

“Jory!” Lyanna watched as Jorelle balanced her phone between them, even Lyra left her place by the stove to see whatever picture was being shown. 

“Oh, artsy instagram account he’s got,” Dacey commented, balancing the baby bottle with her one hand as she reached to tap the screen. 

“He’s hot, Lya, well done,” Alysane said. 

“What the fuck, how do you know his instagram?” Lyanna asked, her face heating up in embarrassment as she saw her sisters grouped together on the other side of the table. 

“He comments on all your shit, it was pretty easy,” Jorelle stated, as if it was such normal behaviour. 

“And you two are _‘not dating’_ , why?” Dacey asked, putting down the bottle and putting Jonelle on her shoulder to burp her. “What do you two do then, Lya?” Her look was pointed mockery. 

“Oh, my gods, gross,” Lyra laughed, walking back to the stove. 

“No, please explain, Lyanna,” Dacey continued, “explain to my dear old heart what it is that you do to this poor boy.” 

Lyanna pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “You’re in your thirties, you’re hardly old, Dace.” 

“Is he any good?” Alysane interrupted, taking a sip of juice from the glass in front of her. 

“I’m not answering that.”

Lyanna went back to her phone, vaguely aware of the pink tinge that heated up her face. What was she meant to say— that she didn’t know her thighs could shake as much as they did when he had his way with her? 

_rickon: you’ve ruined me_

_rickon: and i’m so thankful for it_

_lyanna: have fun at the pool. i’m going for a hot shower._

She was definitely not going for a shower just yet, but he didn’t have to know that. 

_rickon: fuck me_

Lyanna put her phone away and stared back at her sisters once more. 

“So, is he?” Dacey repeated Alysane’s question, “Well, you’re all red in the face, is that a good or bad thing?” 

She brought her coffee to her lips again, this time blowing on it so that it felt just right on her slightly fuzzy tongue. 

“Look at her,” Dacey used Cregan’s fist to point at Lyanna, “she’s gross and she’s definitely having fun if she dreads coming here so much.” 

“I don’t dread-“ 

“Don’t start, Lyanna, you walk around with a scowl on your face.”

Maybe she wasn’t so good at hiding her feelings then. Lyanna knew she didn’t actually dread being home, not really. If anything she missed the mountain air, the smell of the pine trees ever-looming, because when else was she able to sit on the perfectly comfortable sofas that decorated the living room and let her niece and nephew fight over who got her attention when they had 3 other aunts perfectly capable of giving them all the love. 

“I’m happy to be home, I am. Just tired between studying and helping around, that’s all.” 

“So you’re not moping about this boy you’re dating?” 

“I’m not dating him, for fuck’s sake-“ 

Alysane stared back at her, “Next time Mors asks why Jonelle has been swearing, I’m blaming you, Lya.” 

“Not dating who? A boy?” Her mother walked into the kitchen with her car keys in her hands, interrupting their conversation. 

“Uhh…” Lyanna sipped her coffee. Mors would likely brush his daughter saying fuck, either way, Teora had everyone wrapped around her little finger the moment she was born. 

Maege leaned over Jorelle’s shoulder, staring at her phone. “Too skinny, not worth your time, you need to be back here after school anyway.” 

Lyanna watched as all her sisters' eyes went wide. “I just said I wasn’t dating him,” she told her mother, anger lacing her words. “What does it even matter, I already agreed to come back didn’t I?” 

“Good, I’ll see you, girls, soon. And Lyanna, I need to speak with you when you arrive at the office.” 

Her mum left, a few parcels from the counter in her hand as she went out the door once more. 

“Don’t listen to her, Lya, if you want to date him, you should, he’s got a nice smile.” 

“I already told you we’re not dating, Aly,” Lyanna repeated.

* * *

Everything about the place screamed warmth, cosiness, comfort, with the wooden interior and yellow lights, perhaps it was really her mother who didn’t belong there, even if it was the place she was most often found. 

She took short strides, stalling as much as possible and taking in the atmosphere of the place, greeting the new face at the reception, smiling at older faces she’d known most her life. 

Despite there being a working heater, the whole place smelt cold, or maybe she was just overthinking whatever her mother had to talk to her about. 

Lyanna greeted Patrek at his desk, not even bothering to alert her mother before she opened up the door to her office, watching as Maege looked up from her glasses, staring far too hard at the screen in front of her. If anything, despite the raging frown between her mother’s eyebrows, she was glad Dacey had managed to convince their mother to take a step back from the manual labour and stick to the paperwork. 

She remembered very well how stubborn her mother had been about not accepting the defeat she picturised age to be. A few years later, she could tell her mother would much prefer being the one to captain the charters; because even with all the negativity that seemed to be brewing inside her, Lyanna had to admit there was nothing like being on the open water, even if it was to help clients with their fishing trips. 

“You came.” 

Lyanna almost let herself laugh at her mother’s surprise. But given how irritable she’d been towards her in particular, she couldn’t quite blame her. Even if it was said with gruff attempted disinterest. 

“I had nothing better to do.” 

Maege glared at her, pushing her glasses up to sit on her head. There was a somewhat stifling silence that permeated between them as the older woman sat back on her chair, almost surveying Lyanna as she took a seat on one of the armchairs in front of the desk. In retrospect perhaps it wasn’t wise of her to joke as such, but she could hardly blame herself for obviously spending too much time with Rickon, who surely would’ve laughed stupidly along with her at her ill-timed comment. 

She didn’t care to fill the silence, instead, letting her eyes silently wander around the office she knew very well, the one that never quite changed over the years, only got progressively messier. If anything they were both the most taciturn of their knit of six women, all stood proud but none as reserved as the two of them. 

The truth was, where Lyanna called her mother obstinate; her mother would call her far too willful. Where Lyanna saw her mother as detached; her mother would call her reticent. If anything it was their similarities which left their relationship constantly disjointed. 

Maege didn’t either, instead, taking out two beers and setting them in front of Lyanna with a bottle opener. Lyanna opened the bottles, sliding one closer to her mother as she sat back once more, already feeling the condensation pool off her bottle and drop to stain her shirt. 

Her fingers had already begun feeling numb to the coldness of the amber bottle in her hand when her mother finally spoke up. 

“When are your exams?” 

Her tone was even, there was never much to pick up on when she was talking to her mother, but it was always definitive if she was angered or even happy, right then it was neither, her tone was flat and likely her mood was set to a cool neutral, she clearly, genuinely wanted to know about her exams it seemed. 

“Around May, a week and a half after I get back,” Lyanna took another pull from her bottle. She had a good hour before it was 4 PM approached, leaving her some leg room before she had to meet Mors like she had promised Alysane she would do. 

“Have you been studying?” 

“I’ve been trying my best to, yeah.”

Lyanna tried not to think of her weekend before flying over to Bear Island, not when most of her waking hours were spent shuffling between the opened books on her desk and the tall redhead that occupied her bed. Her mother snapped her out of her daydreams once more, with yet another question.

“Will you be alright with packing up your living space on your own before June?” 

_Before June_ , it sounded so much simpler in words. 

“Myrcella and Wylla have already agreed to help with the packing, then I’ll drive anything extra to Jory’s,” she continued with blunt replies. She was glad to say the least, that her friends had readily agreed to help her, perhaps lessen the load that leaving had become, especially when it meant leaving them. Lyanna hadn’t seen Wylla in what had felt like forever, but with her occasional texts, she never felt far. 

“Okay, good. Alysane said you’ve got to pick up Mors and the kids when we’re done here?” 

“Yeah, I was going to ask for keys to one of the trucks.” 

“Ask Patrek, he’ll give you whichever isn’t being used.” 

After not entirely terrible time spent with her mother, Lyanna found peace in driving down the smooth roads. It had been a while since she’d gotten a chance to drive, given that she didn’t have a car back on the mainland, she stuck mostly to the buses and cabs, occasionally getting a ride on Jorelle’s bike, and more often than occasionally, she took her spot in the passenger seat of Rickon’s car. 

With the sky still vibrant, it felt like the right brink of home, where all she could smell were the trees and the smell of damp earth signalling rains to come, where she didn’t even bother to turn on the radio, for the constant twitter of the birds seemed to fill her ears well enough as the wind picked up what little of her hair fell out of her braid. 

It was moments like these, where she was granted full reprieve outside the chatter of all her sisters and the intimidating and ever-looming despite the distant presence of her mother, where Lyanna thought maybe she could handle moving back home. But moments like this never lasted long, and though it seemed picturesque enough to her childhood’s vision of home, it really wasn’t. 

Her routine in the mainland, between Winterfell, and it’s surrounding towns, the North was where she was drawn to. Even when she berated herself for holding her tether to a pair of dizzying blue eyes and auburn curls, she was reminded that it was not only him who made her lament so much over her move. He was really just the cherry on top, the russet cherry if she was in the mood to make his kind of jokes. 

If anything, the North was where her ambition lied, away from the small town aura that Bear Island resonated with. Maybe if she hadn’t gotten a taste of what the outside world had to sample, she’d be fine contending with staying inert on the humble stretch of mountainous land, but now she felt greedy for what could have been and it’s what ultimately would give her the tip of the hat to spiral. 

Lyanna finally saw the aluminium gates that led to Alysane and Mors’ house, she lifted the handbrake as she stepped out to open the gates, promptly driving into the small property. She could already see that the front door was left ajar. 

There was something about Alysane’s home that had always screamed a reprieve from home whilst not wandering too far. It was warmer in ways their home had never been. And even that day, when the heavy breeze rustled leaves and hit the front door repeatedly into the wall, it still filled her with a sense of welcoming she hadn’t quite felt even after being home for almost a week. 

She walked past the threshold, not hearing a reply even after calling for Mors several times. Cregan’s car-seat laid by the door and the house looked relatively calm, other than a few toys strewn about and the sound of Teora’s cries. 

Lyanna saw the way Mors tried to bounce the four-year-old in his arms, wiping a stain over his t-shirt. 

“Thank the Gods, Lya.” 

The relief that flooded his features was almost laughable if she weren’t concerned with the dark rings that made his usual caramel skin appear pallid. 

“You look awful, Mors,” she told him, taking Teora into her arms. 

He immediately began setting dishes into the sink, clearing up the messes of bread and moving things into the fridge. “Nightshifts, can’t stand them,” he said quickly, it was self-explanatory really, she knew how wrecked her body got after pulling all-nighters. And Mors was here, two children dangling on his sanity, she could barely imagine how he was doing. 

“Aly’s been telling me it's been a busy week at the clinic.” 

Lyanna didn’t quite know how Teora quieted down in her arms, but she suspected it had a thing or two to do with the way her little hands reached out for the earrings that dangled off Lyanna’s ears. 

“It’s been a week, it has,” Mors replied, bringing Cregan out in his arms from the nursery, “but thankfully, Al will be staying with you and your sisters until my rota is up again.” 

“Trade with me, Teora’s pulling at my earring,” Lyanna told him, taking calm baby Cregan into her arms and seeing that Mors was having a much easier time with Teora now that she was acting much more placid, even if her tears were still staining her honeyed skin. 

“Can you tell Aunt Lya why you were crying?” Mors asked Teora, wiping her little face with his thumb before pushing her brown hair back. 

Lyanna put a kiss on the top of Cregan’s head, taking in a deep breath of his clean baby smell of powder and soap. It was an instant mood lifter, as she swayed him in her arms, only seeing the smile that took to his little lips. 

“I dropped juice on dad and he looked upset,” Teora sniffled, hiding into Mors’ shoulder as he hugged her. 

“Mors, you got upset?” Lyanna feigned a gasp, hardly able to do anything but smile while her nephew giggled in her arms. 

“I didn’t!” Mors said, brushing it off with laughter as well as he walked out the door, one arm holding the car-seat and the other holding onto his daughter. 

It didn’t take long before Mors had set up the car-seat in the backseat and strapped Teora into her seatbelt, breathing deeply once he was in the front seat with his bag. 

“Who knew vets had such hectic home lives?” Lyanna joked, watching Mors reach out to turn up the radio, laughing lightly at her. 

After a few whines from Teora, Mors had settled on reaching behind to hold her little hand the whole ride until Lyanna dropped him off at the animal clinic. 

The rest of the way back home had dropped both her niece and nephew into deep naps, giving her some peace between putting Teora down on the sofa and heating up a bottle, Alysane had left in the fridge. 

She wasn’t home long before Lyra showed up, telling her to bring the truck back to the office and do a check of all the boats’ strainers. As expected, Lyanna didn’t get much peace before being shoved back into one routine or another. 

* * *

With all her days melding into one, finding herself busier than initially thought, Lyanna had found herself feeling estranged on the place she had once called home. All the familiarity of home had unsettled her and left her somewhat alienated with thoughts of another life she’d much rather be part of. Where she could wake up to Rickon and end her day with a glass of wine with Myrcella, or even when Wylla was able to show up. 

It was late. Her room was dark, only a lamp at her side was lit to let her see as her thoughts racked loudly in her mind. 

It was unnerving, being back in her old room. After spending the last three years in Winterfell, staying in Bear Island felt like another life, like an echo of a memory. Lyanna had found herself grown through so much in the last three years that it was hard to adjust back into her former self. 

She thought of Rickon. In the last two weeks, they had sent a few messages back and forth, never quite getting the time to properly see what the other was up to. But now it was late. He couldn’t have been doing anything other than sleeping, or she hoped at least he was up. 

Lyanna lifted her t-shirt, rolling an already hard nipple with her finger. She let her hand go down her body, slipping underneath the waistband of her knickers, taking time to drag her fingers down her cunt, coming back up to circle her clit with glistening fingers. 

She reached for her phone, pulling up her chat with Rickon and sending a message to him. 

_lyanna: are you up?_

She was glad to see the bubble appear almost immediately, watching the three dots move as he typed. 

_rickon: yeah, i’m in bed_

_lyanna: good._

_rickon: good?_

_lyanna: i can’t stop thinking about you._

_rickon: any thoughts in particular?_

_lyanna: i keep thinking of ways i want you to fuck me when i’m back._

_rickon: gods. please tell me you’re doing something about these thoughts…_

Lyanna, put her thumb over his contact info, dialling his number within seconds, rather than prolonging this over iMessage. 

_“Hey,”_ he answered, he sounded half asleep, his voice scratchy, it caressed her entire body.

“Hey.”

_“Are you just going to tell me something like that and just to tempt me? I’ve told you I’m at my wit's end waiting for you.”_

“When have you known me to be a tease?” Lyanna asked, hearing him let out breathy laughter at her words, “But I could really use a finger or two from you. You’ve ruined fingering for me, y’know?” Lyanna arched her back, curling her two fingers inside herself, thinking about his hands and the way he would trace up her spine or generously cup her tit. 

_“If it means I get to do the job for you, I don’t see that as a bad thing,”_ Rickon joked. _“But my fingers are growing lonely without you.”_

“Rickon?” She gasped. Closing her eyes as she thought of him. 

_“Yeah?”_

“I want you to touch yourself.”

_“What do you think I’m doing, Lee?”_ Rickon breathed into the phone, the deep sound of a groan sending a shiver down her spine. _“All I can think about is having you near me.”_

“Pretend I am then.” 

_“Fuck, Gods I’ve missed your voice,”_ she heard his voice get more urgent. 

“Mhm, yeah, likewise,” Lyanna moaned, biting down on her lip. “You sound good when you’re tired.” 

_“You sound good regardless, though.”_

“The other day I was taking some clients on the water and all I could think about was that time we had sex in the coat closet.” 

_“When you and Myrcella had Wylla over?”_ Rickon laughed, he knew exactly what she was speaking of. 

Lyanna had spent all of that day and the days after thinking of the way she had snuck Rickon into her flat, as if she was a fucking teenager. It was only a few months into their arrangement when she still had the slightest sliver of shame around her friends when it came to Rickon. 

The way he had hitched her up, an air of authority coating his voice as he made her hold onto the railing of the closet before sinking into her had lingered in her head for days. She even remembered the way he had kissed her just to get her to make less noise, soon after the both of them laughed as her friends put the pieces together, clearly having heard them. She couldn’t have cared less especially not with the way he had held her legs up in his arms as he pounded into her, not even relenting when her cunt fluttered around him. 

“Yeah.” 

_“It was a tight spot, but it worked well,”_ Rickon added, she could hear the way his breathing quickened.

“Really well, yeah,” it sent her stomach in ripples just thinking of it as she pressed her palm over her clit, “I’ll let you decide where you’d want to come. In my mouth, on my face, on my tits or if you’d want me to fuck you until you came inside me,” Lyanna threw her head back against her pillow.

_“Fuck- all of those without a doubt.”_

“Make your choice but know that when I’m back, I need you to fuck me hard. All I think about is being bent over a table, or fucked into a wall. I need you, Rickon.” Lyanna pulled her phone away from her ear setting him on speaker and placing her phone on the pillow beside her, pinching her nipple before going down to her clit and rubbing in circles, fingers still curling inside her. “Gods, I’m fucking close” 

_“I want to hear you come, Lee.”_ Rickon breathed heavily. _“And, when you’re back, I’ll do whatever you want me to. I’ll fuck you anyway you ask me to.”_

Lyanna came listening to his voice, repeating his name over in her head and most likely loudly, arching her back off her bed. “Decide.” She told him shakily, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. “Where will you come, Rickon?” 

_“On your tits.”_

“Mhm.”

_“Gods, what I’d do to see you right now.”_

“Just imagine that I’m out of breath and yet still lazily pinching my nipples between my fingers as I think of them covered in your come.” 

_“Yeah? Fucking hells.”_ Rickon swore loudly, his voice strained as he came.

No words were spoken as they gained their senses back. Lyanna brought her phone back to her ear, listening to his breathing even out. 

_“Gods, I didn’t realise how much I needed that,”_ he told her, she closed her eyes, just to savour the sound of his voice a moment longer. 

“I’ll be back soon,” Lyanna told him. A part of her desperately wanted him to be beside her, as her eyelids grew heavy she just wanted to feel his arms wrapped around her as she slowly fell asleep. 

_“Not soon enough.”_

“I know… Rickon, I miss you,” she admitted softly, turning over on her pillow, taking the extra pillow on her bed between her arms. 

_“I miss you too, Lee,”_ he responded, barely skipping a beat. His conviction should have been encouraging but it really imbued her with fear. _“Give me a minute will you?”_

Lyanna turned her phone off speaker, holding it to her ear as she waited for him, wanting to really get any moment she could steal to talk to him, given how busy her days had been. 

His voice came in again, hearing the exaggerated sigh he’d do when he stretched himself over the bed, _“How was your day, Lee?”_ He asked, his voice dripping with the exuberance she only ever associated with him.

Her heart fluttered again as she took a deep breath in and out. _She was definitely going to miss him._

* * *

With her second cup of coffee by her side, Lyanna stared down at the words in her textbook, printed words hardly registering in her mind. 

She pulled her jumper tighter around her, spring nights had a habit of still being cold in Bear island. Her books were laid across the kitchen island, where she sat on a stool, legs folded as balanced her chin on her knee, willing herself to concentrate. She twisted her pen between her fingers, hitting it off her book to the beat of the music that played from her earphones. 

As she turned a page of the book that she hadn’t even managed to read, her sister walked in, filling up the kettle and switching it on, not saying a word until the boiling of the kettle filled up the staunch silence. 

“That’s a nice jumper,” Alysane mentioned, “It’s a bit big, is that the style?” 

Lyanna’s gaze went down to the green jumper she wore, It was Rickon’s of course, she had never given it back to him after he’d offered it to her that day at Widow’s Watch. It still smelled faintly of him, a mixture of laundry detergent and his cologne, one other thing that she could only label as _Rickon_. She looked back up at Alysane, “Yeah I guess so,” she shrugged.

“Is it yours?” Alysane asked, taking a teabag out of a box and placing it into a mug. 

“Well I’m the one wearing it, aren’t I?”

Alysane sighed, “I mean is it your boyfriend’s?” She placed her mug on the counter.

Lyanna rolled her eyes at her older sister, “Please, stop it.” She dropped her head into her palm, pen going over the unit title she had written half an hour earlier. 

“My mistake. Is it Rickon’s?” 

Lyanna shoved her earphones aside, fingers pulling at the sleeves of the jumper. She turned to her sister, watching as she poured steaming water into her mug. Alysane brought her tea to the island, taking the stool besides Lyanna, shoving her books aside to make room for a mug. Lyanna glared at her sister.

“You weren’t even using those.”

“Yes, Aly, it is Rickon’s jumper,” Lyanna snapped. 

Alysane elbowed her jokingly, “What’s up with you?” 

Lyanna didn’t respond, glaring at her phone for a moment before twirling her pen again. 

“Tell me about him,” Alysane prodded, playing with the cord of her teabag. 

“Tell you what?” 

“About Rickon.” 

“No.” 

“Why not?” 

“I know this is just the beginning of one of your lectures.” 

Lyanna let herself glance at her sister’s soft face, dark eyes shining with the kitchen lights. It felt hard to talk about Rickon because talking about him just fuelled the guilt she already felt. 

“Oh come on,” Alysane grinned, “I just want to know more about him. There has to be something if you keep glaring at your phone every other minute.” 

“I am not.” 

“Yeah, you are.” 

Her phone vibrated, screen lighting up with his name. Lyanna flipped her phone over, jaw tightening as she stopped herself from smiling at the _“are you up?”_ that was going unanswered for now. 

“I’m joking about the dating thing.” 

Lyanna kept her silence because really what was there to say that she hadn’t stupidly ranted about to Jorelle. If anything she was at least glad that her older sister hadn’t dared to broach the subject again, only ever mentioning Rickon’s name in jokes. 

“It doesn’t matter if it’s complicated, I’m assuming your feelings aren’t.” 

It may have been the way her sister had worded it, or perhaps the all-knowing tone of someone who had been softened by love’s touch over the years. Tried and tested, Alysane had the same stubbornness as all the Mormont women had, the fierceness that hadn’t gotten tempered by even love, only amplified in a way Lyanna hardly believed in. And it showed immensely in the way she spoke, with careful tones and wise words. 

“It feels like they are,” Lyanna told her truthfully, because if anything, what she felt had always been complicated to her, even before Rickon, with all those that came before; in essence, feelings had always landed her in complicated situations. 

“But they aren’t really, are they? In the end, it’s simple if you love him or not, it’s just the circumstances which aren’t simple,” Alysane said calmly, fiddling with her teabag before bringing her mug to her lips. 

“Yeah…” 

“So, what are they?” 

“What are my feelings?” Lyanna stalled, still playing with her pen, “I don’t think I can tell you that.” 

Her sister didn’t look surprised, it almost felt like going into the conversation, any questions Alysane was asking, she likely already had the answers to, and yet she was asking them anyway. “Why not?” She asked, sipping her tea. 

“Because then it all gets harder and I’m already having a hard time.” 

“You don’t have to tell me exactly if you don’t want to,” Alysane assured her, still eyeing her properly, “I just wanted to know if this was a ‘not dating’ fling or something else?” 

“Not a fling… not at all.”

“More, then?” 

“Yeah.”

“How does he make you feel?”

Without fail, every response that entered her head sounded far too stark, too open and vulnerable in ways she wasn’t ready to be. Rickon first and foremost made her feel like she was so _much_ , she had no idea she was able to be. 

“It’s stupid to say it, but he makes me feel lighter. I don’t think I could ever get bored around Rickon,” Lyanna tried explaining, pulling back all the other pointless emotions she was letting seep into her words. 

“Love is a bit ridiculous anyway, but you don’t have to call it stupid, not if you feel good about it,” Alysane’s tone was playful still, despite how Lyanna was feeling about the conversation. 

“I do… I just know I shouldn’t though, I wasn’t meant to.” 

“Things don’t ever happen when they’re meant to, Lyanna,” Alysane teased, poking her in the side yet again.

Her words were things Lyanna was already aware of, things that at this point were more than logical. But there was something entirely different to have the one woman she looked up to when it came to these things, tell her in the most calming and soothing tones possible. 

“But it’s difficult,” Lyanna started, “the whole situation. If I wasn’t moving back, none of this would be difficult… there would be nothing to worry about.” 

“And what are you worried about with him?” 

“I don’t want to be the one who ruins how he sees love,” Lyanna sighed, leaning more comfortably against the counter. “There’s always that one person who… when you end things, it changes the way you see every other relationship after it. And he’s a raging optimist, I don’t want to take that from him.” 

“Do you think he loves you?” 

Lyanna couldn’t help but laugh inwardly, “I think so…” Nothing else could describe how she felt about him loving her better than saying it gave her mixed feelings. 

“Your one was Dorea then?” 

She let out a deep breath, not wanting to skirt along the topic of Dorea when she felt so far away from Lyanna’s mind at this point, it was indescribable; hearing Dorea’s name and not feeling that sting she felt a year ago, but somehow it still filled her with dread, the way things had ended for them.

“Rickon hasn’t dated anyone— is what I’m trying to say,” Lyanna met Alysane’s eyes, remembering clearly how he had told her amusedly that he and Trystane hadn’t really dated either.

“Oh Gods, Lya…” Alysane began laughing. 

“It’s not funny, Alysane,” Lyanna put her foot up against her sister’s chair, unable to help but laugh as she pretended to shove her away.

“Of course not, it’s just— how long have you two been seeing one another?” 

“Just a bit over a year,”

“A year, Lyanna?” Alysane set her tea aside with something like a gasp. 

“What?” 

“I just never knew you to do anything halfheartedly, and you somehow managed to be with him for a year and not fall in love?” 

“I didn’t say that.” 

“Yeah, and just over a year, that can’t have been long after Dorea.” 

Lyanna watched Alysane add things up in her head, glossing past a near confession. But she wasn’t wrong, being with Rickon had been somewhat unlike her, but it had been a whim or an itch she needed to scratch whilst trying to mourn what she thought was going to be it for her. 

“Yeah but that doesn’t matter, none of this really does,”

“It matters if it makes you feel this way, Lyanna.” 

Alysane sat back straight, still clearly not ready to let her retreat back into herself now that she’d begun talking. 

“I have to study.”

Lyanna pulled her books closer once again, taking a sip of her coffee that had already become lukewarm. She felt the heat of her older sister’s gaze on her, not saying a word as she watched her for what felt like an unsettling eternity. 

“I’ll leave you to it, then.” 

“Mhm,” Lyanna brought her pen to her mouth, watching her sister leave with a side-eyed glance, hearing the tired breath Alysane let out as she got up.

It didn’t take her long before she found herself giving up and reaching for her phone, immediately calling Rickon’s number in hopes that he was still up, even if his message had sat unopened for over an hour. With no reply, Lyanna couldn’t help but let her mood dampen further. 

* * *

_lyanna: hey. are you busy?_

_rickon: hey_

_rickon: everything alright?_

_lyanna: yeah._

Lyanna waited for a moment, inhaling another drag and exhaling it. She watched the way the morning sun bounced off the lake creating a cold kind of warmth. The air was crisp, whipping through her ears along with the sounds of the flowering trees and spirited birds. 

_lyanna: can i call you?_

_rickon: yeah, of course_

She hesitated for a moment, thumb hovering by the call button before finally dialling his number. 

_“Hi,”_ Rickon’s voice came through the receiver not long after she dialled the number. She let out a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding at the sound of his voice. It seemed to steady her more than the cigarette between her fingers. _“What’s wrong?”_

After hearing his voice again, Lyanna realised she hadn’t said a word back to him yet, “Nothing’s wrong,” she told him, though something did feel wrong, she felt it in her bones, not quite able to zero in exactly what it was, “I just wanted to see how you were doing…” she added, taking another drag, releasing it, only to have it dissipate along with the wind, “I tried calling you last week.”

_“Yeah,”_ he sighed, _“I was sleeping and missed your call.”_ he said a moment later, _“I’ve had a busy week.”_

Lyanna nodded, even though she knew he couldn’t see her, perhaps it was to reassure herself, “What are you doing right now that I’ve interrupted?” She asked, changing the subject. 

Rickon laughed, _“Attempting and failing to finish this paper,”_ she heard the sound of a heavy inhale and exhale as if he was stretching himself out with a groan. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have interrupted then.”

_“No, no. I was meaning to take a break anyway.”_

“Okay, good cause I’ve definitely developed a guilty conscience.”

_“Have you really?”_ Rickon’s tone was filled with mirth.

“Absolutely, yeah,” Lyanna laughed. 

There was a beat of silence before he cleared his throat and spoke up again, _“What are you doing?”_

Lyanna looked out from the terrace where she was standing, putting the cigarette in her fingers on her lips, she took a final drag and waited for a moment, “I’m meant to be studying,” She admitted. 

_“And what are you doing instead?”_

“Talking to you,” she finally said, waiting for a moment before adding on, “I was reading as well but I put my book down.” 

_“What’s on your mind?”_

She could tell him if she wanted to, maybe if she was in the mood to be swayed by him. But it was a matter of perspective, wasn’t it? They’d just gone a week of not speaking because they’d caught one another at a bad time. 

“Nothing.”

* * *

The lake sat relatively still over the basin where it lied. The air was shot with sounds of nature and the frequent rustling of the trees. It felt like nothing had changed over the years. 

Everything couldn’t have been more different though. 

With Domeric at her side, silently tipping his beer back. It hadn’t been long since they’d seen each other, but whilst he remained his old wise self, Sybelle and Martyn couldn’t be more different. 

In truth, she’d missed her childhood best friends. And as they all reminisced on their silly teenaged years, the absence of Larence was palpable. 

Sybelle leaned into Martyn, it was a chilly night, she wouldn’t blame them for being handsy, not when she was wrapped warmly in Rickon’s green jumper. nevertheless, it was odd, seeing two people she’d known almost her whole life, suddenly so in love. 

Lyanna had asked Domeric earlier in the night why he hadn’t told her about the two of them. He had only shrugged, saying it didn’t seem particularly relevant to bring up. She didn’t blame him, Bear Island’s gossip really had become the last thing on her mind at this point. 

Domeric was always there at least. Since a faithful day in their first year of school, they’d been somewhat inseparable. He seemed to have understood things she could barely put to words, even as children, teens, and now as struggling adults. She supposed he understood why she was so disheartened by the news that two of their best friends had suddenly gotten engaged. It felt like at both sides, life was passing her by too quickly for her to properly grasp. 

“We don’t meet very often anyway,” Domeric told her, taking a generous pull from his bottle, “we’ve all grown busy, it gets harder to keep in touch when you’re trying to sort out what you want to make out of your life.”

He stared back at the couple, Sybelle and Martyn, who stood beside the opened boot of Sybelle’s car. Her short, dark hair was tossed to the side as he tried to bring his lips to hers. 

“Yeah, I guess Larence and I left you to be the third wheel, huh?” Lyanna joked back. 

She hadn’t heard from Larence in a year, properly anyway, but she knew he was somewhere in Dorne, far away from the solemnity of their small island and doing exactly what he and she had promised they would. G _et the fuck out of Bear Island._

“Aye,” Domeric laughed, “but we’ve grown up, grown apart. I don’t know if they want to believe that sometimes.”

“Oi, wise man, we can’t both be bummed out by life. I’ll need your enthusiasm for life if I’m going to get it through coming back here.” 

Domeric smiled at this, shaking his head somewhat, “I’ll get you through it,” he elbowed her. 

Sybelle and Martyn waved their departure, small car slowly retreating in the distance. Leaving Lyanna alone with Domeric, nothing different to what the night had been anyway. 

“I hardly recognise her,” Lyanna noted dejectedly. Her and Sybelle had been the only two girls of their friend group, finding it easy to stick by one another’s side. And with her short hair and swarthy skin, Lyanna had certainly found herself enamoured with Sybelle at one point in their teen years. 

Of course, after a tryst or two, they’d put a stop to it for the sake of their friendship. but there was always a special place in her heart for her first, but Sybelle couldn’t have been more different to what Lyanna remembered. It really wasn’t her place to be judging all this either way, since she was hardly the same girl as the one who kissed one of her best friends under a canopy of pine trees. 

“I still can’t believe you and her got together and never told anyone,” Domeric jabbed. 

“We were kids.”

“We still are. Just with loads more baggage.”

Lyanna found herself laughing at his comment, he wasn’t far from the truth. “You wouldn’t believe how much.”

“Why’s Maege got you coming back when she knows it’s the last thing you want?”

“Since when does she care what I want?” Lyanna stared back at the lake, watching the way it stretched out in front of them. “She’s just so caught up with the chartering business, I think she forgets we’re not all in the mood to wither away on this island.”

“Is the mainland still just as inviting as before or more so now?” 

Lyanna met Domeric’s hazel eyes, she often wondered how it is that he didn’t just read her mind already. 

“More so, Domeric. I’ve got a life back there. Friends, people. What have I got here besides you?”

“Alysane is probably the best catch in this, not me.” 

Lyanna rolled her eyes at her best friend, his small smile was contagious, it felt like the glimmer of the home she didn’t completely detest at this point. 

“Who’s holding you back?”

“No one is.”

Domeric wasn’t convinced, but when was he ever?

“Remember Dorea?” Lyanna asked. 

“Don’t tell me you’re back with her, are you?”

“No, I just never thought I’d get over her, remember?”

“I remember, you came back months later still hung up on what happened, blaming the long distance.” Domeric had taken the brunt of her whining, two years after she’d left home. “You know you’re not to blame for being cheated on.”

“I know, it’s irrelevant now, I guess...” Lyanna sighed, opening her second beer.

“I specifically remember being told that you didn’t expect to fall in love again.”

She laughed at herself, it had hurt, watching someone she loved slowly fall out of love with her, she had still clung onto Dorea, even if she’d seen how fed up the woman was with their relationship. First loves and all— it felt tricky. 

“I should’ve listened to myself,” Lyanna said, watching the slow realisation take to Domeric’s face. 

“Who is it this time?”

“I’ll tell you. But you’re not allowed to judge me when I tell you I need to break it off before I come back here again.”

“Show me what they look like and then I’ll tell you if I can judge.”

Lyanna elbowed him, pulling out her phone as he let out a yelp. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading  
> love,  
> [fineosaur](https://fineosaur.tumblr.com)


	9. so i hold you by the jaw and kiss you to be sure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey-“ 
> 
> Rickon pulled her by the waist and kissed her right there in the hallway, interrupting whatever else she was about to say. She fell into his kiss easily, her cold hands against his chest were still the warmest thing he’d felt in the three weeks he had gone without her. 
> 
> “Hey,” he finally replied, leaning down to kiss her neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from: wild heart - mumford & sons

_mid-april_

_rickon_

Despite his hair still being wet from the pool and in need of a wash, Rickon laid on his bed, he was most likely leaving his quilt damp under him but could hardly be bothered. He’d been laying on his bed for way too long for him to remember the time, there was likely just an hour or two before the sun would set. 

The wind circling in through his opened windows, filled his ears, somewhat soothing and yet, he found it hard to relax his shoulders and all the laps he’d done had only made the tension in his shoulders and neck more apparent. Rickon had only one thing on his mind as he stared up at his ceiling, or more accurately, one person. And thankfully, soon enough he heard a knock at his door. 

Rickon got up from his bed, shaking out his damp hair before looking down at himself. Despite the fact that he wasn’t wearing a shirt, he opened the door to reveal _her_ , whom he couldn’t seem to get out of his head. _Lyanna_. 

“Hey-“ 

Rickon pulled her by the waist and kissed her right there in the hallway, interrupting whatever else she was about to say. She fell into his kiss easily, her cold hands against his chest were still the warmest thing he’d felt in the three weeks he had gone without her. 

For a moment, Rickon allowed himself to stare down at her, taking in her soft eyelashes that curled over her brown eyes, the way just a few stray hairs framed her face and the pliable pink lips that still puckered from their initial kiss. He pulled by her waist to drag her into his dorm as he walked backwards. He didn’t waste a moment before shutting the door behind them and pinning her into it right after. 

“Hey,” he finally replied, leaning down to kiss her neck. 

Lyanna’s fingers went into his hair as he heard her let out a shaky breath. His lips trailed over the smooth skin of her neck, not wanting to let his lips leave her, not even for a moment. 

“I missed you,” he told her, pulling away just to help her shed her coat and jumper.

Rickon kissed down her body, very much glad that she had foregone a bra, as she did most times, and continued down on his knees before pulling her leggings down. He was, at least, surprised to see that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath those. He held back a groan as he tossed them to the corner by his wardrobe, leaving her fully nude before him.

He looked back up at her as his hands trailed up her calves, cupping the back of her knee with one hand as he put one of her legs over his shoulder. He continued a path up her thigh with his other hand. Lyanna stared back down at him with a rising chest, if he had his camera on hand, he’d want a picture of her just from this angle, but he had one other thing in his mind. 

Rickon felt Lyanna’s hand in his hair as he brought his mouth on her. He started off kissing her inner thigh, the one he had hitched over his shoulder, which made her more or less brush out his hair with her long fingers. Then he travelled further, kissing her cunt softly before looking up at her, seeing her eyes closed and her teeth peeking out from where she was biting her lower lip. 

With his patience quickly running out, Rickon traced her folds with his tongue, coming back up to suck on her clit, feeling her grip grow tighter. He held her down against the door with on hand on her stomach, slowly inching up to roll her nipple between his fingers. 

Her moans were loud, but he didn’t find it in him to care at all. Rickon brought his hand down to hold her by her waist, daring to look back at her for a moment and knowing he likely wouldn’t be able to hold himself back for much longer. But went on, tilting his head back, laving at her with his tongue. 

His teeth grazed her centre softly, a gesture that triggered her grip onto him to tighten, although there was a certain discomfort in how hard she pulled, it was nothing he didn’t greatly delight in. Rickon pulled back to meet her eyes, watching her chest rise and fall, he licked his fingers before bringing them down on her, watching her shudder as he skimmed her clit with his fingertips. 

Sliding in one finger, he sucked on her again, adding another digit and sheathing them to the knuckle in a swift motion. Lyanna shook on the leg that was still rooted to the ground, her breathy moans doing nothing for his wavering restraint. 

“Yeah, _Rickon_ , fuck-” her voice quivered, pushing him. She came apart soon after, with a thud of her head against the door. 

When Rickon rose to his feet, with her leg hanging over his arm as he got up, she swayed, still recovering from her climax, he brought his lips to hers. His tongue immediately sought out hers, knowing she would be able to taste herself on his lips, it was what made it all more gratifying. 

Even if it wasn’t possible to feel all of her at once, he still tried, his hand flitted to her waist, over her chest, grazing over her back, coming up to take her hair out of its ponytail, slipping it onto his wrist before pressing his body into hers. He heard her moan against his lips, sure that her body was still alight after the way he had touched her. Her hands passed over his shoulders, one slipping between the two of them to lower his joggers. Rickon helped her with it. 

She threw her head back again as he began kissing her neck, holding onto her tightly as he hitched her onto his hips. Her head hit the back of the door as he did, Lyanna let out a soft laugh. 

Rickon looked up at her to see if she was alright, meeting her shining brown eyes as she smiled back at him, laughing a little longer before he joined. He kissed the dimple in her cheek, thankful to just be with her again.

He took a moment to align himself, sinking into her swiftly, her leg around his waist pulled on him tighter. 

“Gods- Lee,” he groaned, hearing her shallow breaths as he stilled for a moment. Rickon pushed her hair back, not able to open his mouth without completely unravelling, so he let his eyes bask in the view that she was. He kissed heedlessly, finally picking up his pace. 

Rickon bent her leg higher, holding her tightly as he thrust into her, door resonating with every buck. 

“Fuck me harder, Rickon,” she breathed in his ear, a pause after each word. He was sure he’d lose it by the way her fingers gently passed through his hair, or by the sounds of her moans, or by the fact that she was just right there. 

“Fuck— you feel good,” he panted, putting his palm flat against the door, by her head.

“Yeah, you too,” Lyanna moaned, repeating the words by his ear, steadily tearing his temperance. 

Listening to her, Rickon went harder and deeper each time, lifting her leg higher over his arm; always amused by her flexibility. His lips skidded over her neck, his hand slipping between them as he roughly rubbed her clit, settling on the side he knew always made her come apart. 

“I want to feel you come...” Rickon told her, licking her pulse point, nipping her skin slightly before bringing his lips to her ear, “I want to feel you tight against my cock.”

When she met her release again, Lyanna buried her face in the hollow of his neck, holding onto him in a way he wished she’d never let go. For a moment he stilled, more concentrated on enjoying how it felt to have her cling onto him as she came down, with the way she moaned his name loud enough for the whole floor to hear. 

“Hold onto me tighter,” Rickon said, trying to gather himself as he felt the tension in his body build up. 

Lyanna lifted her head once more, pulling his lips to hers, her tongue meeting his heatedly. He felt her legs wind tighter around him, as well as her arms. Rickon held onto her tightly, pressing her harder into the door as he came.

He groaned, unable to form actual words. “Fuckin’ hells- ugh,” _Gods how he loved her_. He kissed her shoulder, holding her tightly by her hip. 

Rickon was sure he had lost all feeling in his body, most of his weight was likely on her as they both stayed rooted against the door. He felt her fingers in his hair, just passing through his damp curls as his breathing steadied. With what little energy he had left, he carried her back to his bed, laying her down as he pulled his joggers back up and laid down between her legs with his head rested on her stomach. 

Lyanna’s fingers ran through his hair, a hand coming down to rub his shoulders. He’d told himself he’d tell her how he felt once she was back. And every day since she’d left, he reminded himself of how important it was to do so. But fear bubbled within him at the thought of confessing to her how deeply and irreparably he had fallen in love with her. 

Rickon turned his head to look up at her, her hands still wandering. He smiled at her with a stupid grin, “Was that hard enough or do I have to take you over a table?” Rickon asked, thinking about their conversation over the phone. One which would likely never leave his head.

Lyanna pushed him aside as she laughed, throwing her leg over him as she left a few kisses on his face, each one left a lingering impression. She pushed her hair back, leaning against his chest, “How often did you think about that?” She questioned pointedly. _How often had he thought of the fact that she called him up begging him to fuck her hard?_

“At least once an hour, sometimes more if I was stuck in traffic,” Rickon joked, holding back a smile as she dropped her head to the crook of his neck, giggling against his shoulder. 

He kissed her hair, holding her tightly against him as his mind wandered. 

“I’m not joking,” he told her earnestly, “but more because I missed you.” 

Lyanna lifted her head up, her eyes didn’t seem to know where to settle, but a smile took over her face as he pushed her hair out of her face. “Yeah?” Her voice came out supple. 

“Yeah.” 

Rickon folded an arm under his head, letting his fingers run through the waves that framed her face. Lyanna sat up a bit after, his hand refusing to leave her as it moved to her thigh. 

“My sisters think you’re hot by the way,” Lyanna said through a laugh, tucking her hair behind her ear but it still fell in her face. 

His hand traced further up her thigh, unable to hold back his smile. “How do they know what I look like?” Rickon asked, feeling her adjust herself so she could lie across his legs. Her hands fingered the material of his joggers. 

“Jory came across your instagram and couldn’t keep her mouth shut.” 

Rickon nodded, “What else did they say?” 

“Alysane says you have a nice smile,” Lyanna told him, passing her thumb over his lips, “I disagree.” 

“You disagree?” He asked, smiling at her, pushing her onto her back. Her eyes went down to his grin. 

Lyanna pulled him down onto her. He took a moment to balance himself so he wasn’t crushing her. Her hands went into his hair, pushing it back out of his face, though it fell back over his forehead. Rickon let himself watch her and the thoughts that seemed to be passing through her head as her fingers traced his jaw in silence.

He wondered what had her so pensive, but didn’t ask, too busy lost in her eyes and the way she touched him softly. 

“I suppose I agree,” Lyanna finally answered. 

“It took you that long to decide whether you liked my smile or not?” He began smiling once more, leaning down to kiss her. Starting with the side of her lips. 

“I never said I didn’t like it,” Lyanna said with a low voice, pulling him back up, “I think you have a great smile.” 

Rickon kissed her with a smile on his lips. Her hand trailed down his body, holding onto his waist, but Rickon pried it off and held onto her hand, their fingers interlacing hers over her head.

Lyanna managed to put Rickon’s back against the bed once more, kissing him just a moment longer and deeper before pulling away. She laughed softly, her lips turning into a smile as she rested her forehead against his.

“How were things back home?” Rickon asked, pushing her hair back behind her ear. 

Lyanna leaned into his touch, “Tiring,” she admitted, “but I missed my sisters, and my niece and nephew. I at least managed to meet Domeric too…” Her eyes searched his for a moment, “And Dacey thinks you’d do good on Bear Island, ‘cause you swim.” 

Rickon laughed, “I could do good anywhere,” he told her, “somewhere with you is preferable though.” He wondered if she caught onto what he was implying. 

She smiled, dropping her eyes as she met him with staunched silence. 

“My mum asked why you weren’t at the barbecue.” 

Lyanna’s eyes went to his chest, where her fingers traced idle circles. “With all your siblings?” She asked without meeting his eyes. 

“Yeah,” he answered, “on the weekend after you’d left.”

Her eyes finally looked up at him, glint in her brown eyes as a smile ghosted her lips, “And she knows me?” Lyanna questioned. 

Rickon let out a soft laugh, “I suppose since I don’t think there’s another person in my life at the moment.” He told her. His fingers playing with her hair that fell loosely at her shoulders. 

“You don’t think?” There was mirth in her repetition of his words. 

He wanted to kiss her, kiss the lips that let out a small laugh, talking in honeyed words. “Hmm, guess not, it’s maybe just you,” he joked, eyes darting away from hers in jest before gazing at her intently. 

“How reassuring,” Lyanna nodded, laying her hands flat on his chest. Rickon put his hand over hers, holding her hand as he continued playing with her hair. 

“Might want to check under the bed to be safe.”

“You just want me to get up so you can check me out.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” Rickon asked, letting his fingers go down her back, his nails grazing her skin slightly. 

Lyanna laid her head down where both their hands rested on his chest. He was once again met with her silence, where she stared away from him in thought, none of the things swimming in her head was he able to decipher. Rickon let it go, not wanting to pry, but it didn’t deter him in any way. He was telling her how he felt today. 

She laid down against him as he talked about endless things, mentioning his older brother who hadn’t been there when all his family was, about his niece or nephew on the way, he listened as she explained some ridiculous story about how her best friend, Domeric and she had skipped school once to sneak off to the cinema. It was flashes of things they hadn’t been in each other’s lives for but it suddenly felt like they were. 

After a while, Lyanna moved to straddle him, leaning down to kiss him. Her hair fell into his face, with a little huff, she tossed it all to one side as she brought her lips back to his. With each press of her body against his, Rickon’s body grew more impatient, but he would gladly lay beneath her all day if he could. 

When her tongue came out in search for his, Rickon reached out to trace her spine with his fingertips. She must’ve liked it, given the way she rubbed against him, setting his body aflame, despite being trapped in his joggers, usually being his most breathable wear. 

His fingers delved into her hair, growing needy, pulling her in tighter as his tongue zealously met hers. Her hands were relentless in their pursuit to dismantle him, running down his chest to test his sobriety. 

With her lips cascading down his throat, Rickon’s chest rose and his eyes closed as she nipped his skin. “I’m going mad here, Lee,” he breathed out, fingers still tangled in her hair. 

His chest heaved as their gazes met, already anticipating her hands on him, or even just sliding into her. His body craved her endlessly, even though he’d just had her, here he was again, hard and wanting, as he always was, in every way when it came to her. 

Lyanna sat up in his lap, taking his hands in hers, bringing them up her body excruciatingly slow. She made him cup her breasts, fiddling with the waistband of his joggers. _He was going to come in his pants like some teenager_ , Rickon thought, from just having her move around in his lap. 

Rickon passed his thumbs on the underside of her breasts, helping her lower his joggers before trying to sit up. He got rid of his pants as Lyanna placed a hand on his chest, pushing him back down against the bed. He found himself adjusting himself again, just under her touch. 

He let his hands slowly creep up her thighs once more, staring back at her intensely, waiting for her next move.

Lyanna let her hand drop down his body, lining down his abdomen before stroking up his cock. Rickon’s breath hitched, just at her touch, torn apart by the way she met his eyes. 

“I missed you too, y’know?” Lyanna said, his breathing quickened at the sound of her voice. 

Rickon groaned, his grip tightening on her thighs. “Fuck me, Lee,” he begged, throwing his head back as she passed her thumb over his tip. “Gods, fuck me.” He repeated, his hips lifting off the bed. How did she expect him to think clearly when she was saying _those_ words and her hands were on him like _that?_

Lyanna laughed, lifting herself off him, hovering over him on her knees, _Gods she was a view to behold._ His eyes never left her. He laid back with his hands by her knees, keeping her steady as he watched her bring her hand between her legs.

With three fingers, she circled her clit, throwing her head back as she did so. Rickon felt his cock twitch, he gripped her tighter; as much as he wanted her, he couldn’t bring himself to ask her to stop. The image of her touching herself whilst almost standing over him would forever be seared into his mind, and he knew that it was both the best and worst thing. 

Lyanna took one of his hands in hers, leaning down to take two of his fingers in her mouth, sucking down before pulling out, all whilst her dark eyes regarded him fervidly. 

Rickon was well aware that his voice had died in his throat, all his voluntary actions becoming completely useless. When she slipped his fingers into her, her heat broke him out of his dazed state. 

With his other hand, he tipped her over, onto his chest. Feeling her hands land on him as she laughed, moaning as his fingers moved inside her. “What the fuck are you trying to do to me?” Rickon asked, his voice was raspy, coming apart much like himself. 

She put her lips back on his, there was no sweeter feeling, he’d often thought, but every other sentiment alike still drove him crazy. Lyanna would be his leaden casket yet it was he who was claimed by her loving kiss. 

He drove his fingers deeper, Lyanna’s lips pulling away as she gasped, laying her forehead on his, her hair draping over the two of them. Her hand joined his motions, twisting her clit as they fumbled with their kisses. 

Rickon added a third finger, her head turning to the side as she let out a moan, burying her face against his shoulder. She shuddered for a moment, putting her hand over his and pulling his fingers out. 

Lyanna sat back up, tossing her hair back as she took him inside her all in one go, sheathing him completely with a thrust of his hips against hers. Their moans danced down his spine. 

Rickon brought his hands up her thighs, tightly holding her before flipping them over. “You look incredible, did you know that?” he told her, their faces breaths apart. The smile on her lips fell as he drove into her, causing her mouth to fall open with a moan instead. 

“No, but it’s nice to hear you say that as I’m naked underneath you.” 

Rickon grinned, kissing the side of her lips, “You looked incredible when you were naked on top of me as well.” He kissed her again, thrusting into her harder. 

Her nails passed bluntly over his muscled back, travelling down to his hips. Lyanna pulled him tighter. When his lips came to her neck, she laid her head on his, fingers entangling in his hair, the breathy moans by his ear were all he could hear. 

He heard as her breaths quicken with each stroke. Her hand came to rest on his arse, grabbing tightly so as to drive him deeper, he went on, feeling her back arch beneath him. 

“Rickon,” her voice was worn out, but she held onto him nevertheless. 

He bit into her neck, groaning against her skin. Rickon felt her legs tighten around him. He ran his hand up her chest, fingers passing over her stiffened nipples, everything about her overwhelming his senses as he continued rocking deeply into her. His fingers brushed against her clit, pinching it between two fingers as she trembled beneath him, legs tightening around his waist as she shook. 

Rickon stilled, his forehead resting against hers as she held onto him. He tilted her head back to touch his lips onto hers, hearing her heavy breaths as she kissed him. Lyanna pulled away, swallowing deeply as she passed a hand through her hair, adjusting herself under him. 

“Where are you going to come this time, Rickon?” She asked with fluttering lids.

Rickon almost came apart by her words alone, he laughed with what he could, still out of breath and completely on edge. “Will you always torment me?” He hoped she’d answer with a yes, it was closer to thinking that perhaps she’d be there by his side _always_. 

“Only if you want me to,” Lyanna answered, he was wrapped around her finger, it was obvious how much he wanted anything she offered him. 

“Always, yeah,” he nodded through heavy breaths. Rickon thrust into her, with her hands buried in his hair, he came, arms tightening around her waist as he pulled her flush against him. 

It was a while after, before either of them spoke, he only felt her fingers in his hair for a while, feeling himself slowly being lulled into drowsiness and yet he felt completely elated. His head rested on her chest, holding her close to him with the steady beat of her heart at his ear. 

“Three weeks felt fucking long, Lee,” Rickon’s fingers traced circles on her thigh, “you have no idea how long.” 

“Yeah, I know.”

“I don’t think I ever want to be without you,” Rickon whispered, his hand came up the side of her body, feeling her fingers still. 

“What do you mean?” He could hear the lingering worry suddenly coating her voice. 

“I think I might love you,” he lifted himself, sitting back against the wall staring at his nails for a moment before running a hand through his hair, where her fingers had just been.

“You think?” She said back to him, bringing herself up on her elbows. He watched her hair fall against her shoulders. 

“I guess, or maybe I am in love with you,” Rickon laughed at himself, shaking his head as he finally dared to look at her face. 

“Rickon…” He wasn’t sure what the expression she was wearing meant but it didn’t deter him. 

“I definitely think.” 

“Rickon, please,” Lyanna sat up, legs folded underneath her as she stared at him, eyes narrowed with what he hoped wasn’t rancour.

“Yeah, I love you, Lee,” he finally admitted, reaching out to her only to have her pull away from him. 

“You can’t just-“ Lyanna sat up, tucking her hair behind her ears before shaking her head, “you don’t know what you’re saying.”

Rickon felt his smile fall from his face as he realised nothing he was saying would be reciprocated, “I know exactly what I’m saying and I’m saying that I love you and that I’ve never felt this way before.” 

Lyanna stared at him, her silence ran through his spine, chilling him with a particular heat. He straightened his back and looked back at her, this time actually wondering if he was really being met with a brick wall. 

“Am I alone here?” He asked, his voice cracked as he spoke. He stood up from his bed because suddenly it felt like he could hardly sit still. Rickon pulled his joggers off the floor before looking back at her, awaiting an answer, _was he really the only one who felt anything?_

“I’m tired, Rickon,” Lyanna rubbed her face, “I can’t do this right now.”

Sure he understood that she must have only been home an hour back from the airport before coming over, but he didn’t see how that would get in the way of her saying how she felt. 

“I’m not asking you to do anything… I’m not asking you to say it back. I just want this to mean more to you,” he swallowed, leaning against the edge of his desk. He stared at the carpeted floor before continuing, “Because it means more to me. Because I don’t want to just be some guy you fuck then forget about for three weeks, Lee.” 

“You can’t say I forgot about you, I didn’t, we talked.” She sighed, getting up from the bed and pulling her t-shirt over her head. “You know you’re not just some guy I fuck, you make it sound like I’m using you or something.” 

“Yeah— then what am I to you?”

“I don’t know.” 

“You can’t be fuckin’ serious, Lee,” He told her, somewhat amused at how everything suddenly fell away, “not when we’re practically dating.”

“But we’re not.” It was an abrupt statement. It shot through him with the pointed glare she was suddenly giving him. “Gods… just get it in your head. We’re not dating. You can be so fucking infuriating sometimes, Rickon.” 

“I’m infuriating because I think we’re more than just two people who just fuck when we feel like it?” His tone rose along with hers, “I’ve many times been in a situation where there’s nothing but fucking, this isn’t one of them, this is… this is different in every way.”

“Why are you reading into things? Aren’t we fine? We’re doing perfectly fine in my opinion.” 

The word ' _fine'_ rang in his head. Clearly they weren’t fine, not if this was how his declaration was going.

“Fine? Are you-“ Rickon groaned in anger, hardly finding the words to fit the rage he felt bubbling inside him, “Gods you can’t call me up saying you bloody miss me and then come back acting like-like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re Indifferent!”

“This isn’t indifference, Rickon, you don’t fucking know what indifference is. This just me being logical.”

“Piss off... logical? You think it’s logical for us to just keep doing what we’re doing and just when you decide it’s convenient we end things?” 

“Look just because you’ve sorted out how you feel about me, doesn’t mean I have.” Lyanna’s tone was curt, but he could feel the anger in the way she followed up, “You just think this is easy as if we can fall into place when you’ve never dated anyone long enough to know what it takes.”

“Then tell me what it takes, Lee,” he pleaded, walking up to her, unable to stay rooted when his mind was travelling at a mile a minute.

“Relationships are about compromise, trust, communication-“

“What is it then? You don’t trust me?” Rickon snapped, interrupting what seemed to already be a difficult answer, “What are you worried about? Do you think I’m just bound to do something wrong?”

“It’s not about you! this is about me, I just can’t do this. Not with you.”

“How is it not about me ... when you tell me you can’t do this with me?” Rickon sighed, breathing in and out as he worked on steadying his tone. “I just… I don’t understand.” 

Rickon paced trying to even out his breathing as he reached his desk once more. He shook his head, trying to make sense of what was going on and where this was all coming from. 

“There’s nothing to understand. You don’t need to understand anything, it’s just not something we should do for now, but it’s hardly a reason for us to stop doing what we’re doing.” 

“But I need to understand it, I need to know what’s so wrong that you can’t stand the thought of being with me?” Rickon stared at her, her arms hung folded against her chest as she rubbed her shoulders. She stared at the ground, as she listened to him. 

“Did something happen when you went back home?” Rickon asked, his tone still plead with her, begging to make sense of it all. 

Lyanna’s gaze finally met his and for a moment he felt like he had cracked past whatever defences she had been putting up since he told her he loved her. Her eyes were wide and vulnerable just then. But then she closed her eyes and her frown was back. 

“Stop it, Rickon,” Lyanna told him firmly, “you can’t presume to you know anything about this- about what’s going on with me.” The way she corrected herself sank deeply in the growing pile of indignation he felt at his core. “You’re so— agh, you’re so demanding. Do you think I’m going to drop everything just because you’ve decided you want to suddenly try out dating?” 

“Try out dating?” Rickon laughed, he was struck with the words she said that it suddenly felt unreal, “I don’t even know what you’re implying. For someone who has told me they don’t see me as just some useless rich kid, you’re really good at not showing it.” Rickon noted, finding himself scoffing soon after, “Gods… am I stupid? Is that it? Everything between us was something fanciful I made up in my head to make me think you actually care about me?”

He found himself waving his arms a whole lot, his usual gesticulation seemed to be more exaggerated as he tried to revert back to cooling the situation, despite the anger that truly brewed within him. His sharp gestures made that abundantly clear. 

Lyanna sighed, “You’re twisting my words I never said I didn’t care about you,” she sounded done, completely enervated by their whole discussion. 

“You’re only saying, that you feel nothing other than-” he threw his hands up in defeat, “All I make you is wet then?” 

Lyanna didn’t respond to him. Or rather her response wasn’t fast enough for how quickly his mind was bouncing to different conclusions. 

“Then what am I, Lee? What am I to you? Am I just someone who doesn’t fit in your life, isn’t good enough for your well thought out future?”

His inquiries grew more and more disheartened as he continued, she must’ve felt it or heard it in his question because the anger in her face seemed to dissipate almost instantly. Rickon felt heavy as he leaned back against his desk, dumbfounded by everything the day had turned into. 

“We can just forget about all this,” she offered, cupping his face coaxing him to look up at her rather than the floor, “let’s just go back to how it was.” She said, kissing him softly, he held her waist, leaning down to her, not able to pull away from her grasp. 

“I can’t, Lee,” Rickon admitted. 

“Rickon, please, we’re _good_ ,” Lyanna’s complaints rang in his ears, “why does anything have to change?” He felt his chest tighten, all the bliss he felt just a few minutes earlier had dissipated.

“Because I can’t look at you-“ he heard his voice, harsh at first and took a few deep breaths before continuing. His head throbbed with every word, “My chest hurts... when I look at you and I can’t keep pretending like I don’t fucking feel that. Because I do, I love you and I’m sick of hiding it, I’m sick of trying to hold myself back when I’m around you. I can’t do that to myself anymore… and you know, Lee, I just thought that maybe, just maybe I had more to offer you than just a few orgasms, I have to believe that I have more to offer than just that.”

“You do, don’t say that, you know you do,” Lyanna held his face in both hands, “okay? You’re one of my closest friends, you don’t get to just reduce yourself to something so insignificant .”

“Friend?” He ridiculed, straightening his back and taking himself out of her grip. He saw her reach for his arm, but pulled away from her, “I can’t just be your friend… I can’t just be your friend and sleep with you, waiting until you’re bored of that. I’m not going to wait around, falling deeper in love with you, until you find someone actually worth your time.” 

“I never said you weren’t.” 

Rickon stared at her, his hand holding the back of her neck, fingers burying themselves in her hair. He kissed her and her hands laid on his chest as he did, he let himself get lost for just a moment, kissing her deeply, remembering the feeling of her tongue on his, as if it would be the last time he’d get to, until he decided to rein himself in, pulling away, his forehead leaning on hers. 

Rickon took a breath in, “Tell me you don’t love me,” he pleaded once more, “tell me you don’t feel anything for me.” 

“I’m sorry,” Lyanna shook her head against him, unwilling to look up at him as her fingers lined the ink that marked his chest. He felt the beginnings of the tears he hadn’t known he was holding back prick his eyes. 

“Okay,” Rickon pulled away, finally accepting defeat. He leaned back against his desk, looking down for a moment before scratching the bridge of his nose, “I think you should leave.” He looked away from her, trying to avoid her eyes, mostly trying to avoid her seeing his own. 

“Rickon, please, don’t be like this,” Lyanna told him with an almost neutral tone, “where does that leave us?” Her voice wavered only slightly, but he didn’t want to kid himself into thinking she felt sorry. 

“There is no ‘ _us_ ’, is there?” Rickon finally straightened his posture, still leaning against his desk. “You should leave.” He repeated, trying his best to keep a steady voice, still avoiding her eyes as he eyed the ceiling for a moment, letting out heavy breaths as he tried to calm himself down.

“No, I don’t want to.” She stood her ground, crossing her arms and staring back at him. Rickon’s eyes travelled down her body, seeing her still mostly naked, her hair falling perfectly wild at her shoulders, he felt his heart ache at the sight of her in all her stubborn glory.

“Lyanna, I can’t be around you right now,” he countered abruptly, he dropped his head, watching the way her frown disappeared as he said her name. _Lyanna_. He’d forgotten the last time he had called her by _Lyanna_.

“Okay, then,” She picked up her clothes, pulling them on as she walked to the door, she turned back to look at him, leaning against the door, _how were things so different just moments ago?_ “Are you sure about this, Rickon?” 

“I’m sure that if you stay here longer I’ll do something completely stupid.” His tone calmed down as he thought about how close he was to asking her to stay, to pretending that none of this had happened, that he didn’t know what he was thinking. 

“Okay… I’ll see you around?” 

“It’s unlikely that you will.” 

She nodded, leaving and closing the door behind her. Rickon pushed himself off his desk, taking a deep breath in before letting out a deep groan, “Dammit!” he yelled, throwing his chair aside, running a hand through his hair before lying his palms flat against his desk, he stared out the window in front of it, watching the sunset, the colours that paint the sky so vividly. He could barely comprehend how the sky was able to look so inviting despite how much he had managed to fuck up, the world changes for no one, he thought. Maybe he could take it from the sky and just forget it all, he’d get over this. Or maybe he just needed some fucking air. 

Rickon looked down at his desk, taking a deep breath as he leaned heavily against his hands, glancing at the black hair tie on his wrist and just losing himself again. He pulled on shoes and strapped his phone to his arm, heading out for a run with his headphones on to drown out the rest of the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading  
> love,  
> [fineosaur](https://fineosaur.tumblr.com)  
> ps  
> sorry :(


	10. to think that last fall, you were with me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Even if she did throw out his toothbrush the prior week. She allowed herself to hang on a little longer, maybe just until she was ready, when her exams were over when she graduated, when she left the fucking mainland and its people._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from: glue myself shut - noah kahan
> 
> so, it's been a month but here's a chapter x

_may_

_lyanna_

It was a quiet switch that went off in her head. The one that helped her pick herself up and leave, trying her best not to think of the countless things that had happened in the span of just a few hours. It had only been a few weeks and yet every last glimpse of that day remained solid and instantaneously bleak in her mind. 

Even unprompted, she could remember how her skin felt, alight, slick, appeased, all just ready to be drenched with the cold water of his confession. Lyanna knew in any other circumstance, words like ‘I love you’ resonating in her ears would leave her dizzy and afloat, filled with warmth, but despite whatever delusion she had found herself falling into earlier in the year, there were no other circumstances. Reality was that she couldn’t accept to be tethered right now, not when the cord would be stretched so thin over miles of water, it was bound to snap at any point. 

By any means Lyanna should have been paying attention to the point Wylla was making about her last paper not getting in the way of what she had set out to do that day. _Pack_. 

All the background noise had gone silent when she noticed that Wylla had been staring at her with wide eyes. It took a moment, between the phantom puppeteer rearing the strings and prompting the gears in her head to restart, her eyes, already open and vacant, awoke and brought her back to the living room of the flat she shared with Myrcella. 

Myrcella and Wylla shared a look before Lyanna made herself part of the discussion once more, locking aside her guilt for a moment, no matter how her overflowing chest seemed to leave her stomach in a knot, tightening the nausea she seemed to carry with her. 

“What time is he coming?” Lyanna asked before tipping back her wine glass. 

It was thankfully a Friday afternoon, and whilst she still had one exam weighing like lead in her shoulders, she knew she was next to done with everything and if anything, after the long month she had, Lyanna deserved a night with her friends and wine like this one. 

Myrcella checked the time on her phone, setting it aside as she reached towards the wine bottle that sat at the coffee table. “In ten minutes,” she confirmed, pouring more of the light wine into Lyanna’s glass and her own whilst Wylla’s still sat mostly untouched. 

Once again Lyanna found herself drowned in words she wasn’t quite listening to and the subtle warmth of the oncoming summer. And ten minutes later with a steady knock and an armful of cardboard packing boxes, Trystane showed up right on time. He deposited them on the floor by the door with a smile on his face as he tucked long, dark locks behind his ears. He greeted Wylla and her before Myrcella got up to throw her arms around his neck. 

The wine had clearly gotten to Myrcella, or maybe it was just love that made her so giddy. Lyanna watched the couple share a few quiet words before Myrcella went to her toes and met Trystane’s lips with a smile. 

“Trystane when you’re done making out with Myrcella, would you like a glass of wine?” Wylla called out, holding up the bottle. 

“Of course,” Trystane said with a smile, unlooping his arm from Myrcella’s waist and moving into the living room. 

Myrcella handed him her glass and sat back down with her feet in his lap, “So we’ve all agreed that we need another hour break?” Myrcella joked at their laziness. 

“I’m gonna get out some more stuff I forgot about,” Lyanna said, taking a last sip of her wine, “but you guys can stay here.”

She lifted herself off the sofa, despite Myrcella’s protests, brushing her off and assuring her she was fine alone. Lyanna walked into her room, taking one of the smaller cardboard boxes with her and opening her wardrobe. 

It took a moment of her sitting and staring into the shelves with a marker in her hand before she was interrupted by Wylla. She tossed her green braid over her shoulder and took a seat beside Lyanna on the floor with the wine bottle in her hand.

“I thought I’d give our lovebirds some alone time and help you out,” Wylla said with crossed legs. She offered the bottle to Lyanna, “What’s this box for?”

Lyanna took a swig of the wine, wordlessly turning the box till Wylla could read the name she had written on it.

“Ah.”

“I’ll give it to Tommen before I leave,” Lyanna shrugged, placing the wine down with a thud on the floorboards.

She got to her knees and pulled out the clothes that sat in her bottom shelf. Lyanna was glad to see Wylla get up and begin looking around her room with a wandering gaze, leaving her a moment to one by one stuff each article of clothing into the empty box. They were forgotten bits that she’d worn or he’d forgotten but somehow each smelled faintly of his cologne or laundry detergent, pushing her to hurry up and be done with emptying the shelf. 

Lyanna hung onto the green jumper he had given her back in March, though, pulling it over herself even if it disappointingly didn’t hold his scent anymore. She’d worn it far too many times when she was in Bear Island, fully unaware of how quickly she would be facing the reality of her situation. 

“Have you seen the packing tape?” Lyanna asked Wylla, lifting herself off the ground and closing her wardrobe whilst dodging the wine bottle. 

“Uh yeah, let me get it.” 

Lyanna closed up the box and picked it up, its weight was nothing compared to the heaviness she felt in her heart. She set it in the corner of her room with the writing facing the wall as if the box itself wouldn’t stare at her knowingly during her last few weeks. 

Wylla walked in with scissors and brown tape, smiling at Lyanna tightly. 

“Could you just close it up, please?” Lyanna said, rolling the sleeves of her green jumper, “I’m just gonna use the toilet.” 

“Sure.” 

Lyanna walked past the empty living room and into the bathroom, giving herself a few moments to breathe with the door locked. Thankfully her appearance was completely fine with the exception of the dark circles that hovered beneath her eyes, but that she could blame on lack of sleep from studying and nothing else of course.

Her eyes followed down her face and to the green jumper she wore, with the wool that was soft under her fingertips and maybe a bit too warm for May. 

Taking deep, steady breaths, Lyanna felt the lightness in her chest from the copious glasses of wine she was offered on a mostly empty stomach. It didn’t matter that it would have been the smartest choice to stuff the jumper into the box along with the rest of his things, even if she did throw out his toothbrush the prior week. She allowed herself to hang on a little longer, maybe just until she was ready, when her exams were over, when she graduated, when she left the fucking mainland and its people. 

For now, Lyanna balanced herself precariously, dangerously close to falling apart when she most certainly wasn’t in the position to. It could wait. Then she could let herself crawl into her bed and sleep for as long as it felt necessary. For now, she could dare to cling on a bit longer. 

* * *

She saw less of the pub in those weeks. Exams made it harder for her to fit in extra shifts between all her studying and packing. But sooner rather than later, Lyanna decided it was time to let Gendry know she’d be resigning, a month was definitely enough of a notice. 

After a year and a half, Smith’s Steel held a specific brand of nostalgia she would associate with home. At least it sort of felt that way, with all the memories the space held and the moments that clung to the wooden paneling. 

When hovering by the half-opened door to Gendry’s office, Lyanna didn’t have a hard time beginning a conversation such as this one, the difficulty came with the realisation of what this was, yet another reminder of what she was working towards. _Leaving_. 

She knocked, despite the door being open already. Gendry’s deep voice responded and she entered the room. It was cosy and familiar in ways she didn’t want to think about. 

Lyanna gauged his curious expression from where he sat at his desk, shoulders tense, and bent over a closed sketch pad. Several different ways to start the conversation went through her head but she found herself stuck on the desk that he was sitting at, seeing only one person behind her eyes. How could blue eyes be so different?

“Everything alright, kid?” 

His voice broke her out of her veering thoughts, bringing her attention back to him as he took his glasses off. 

“Yeah,” she laughed it off, “just a little tired, I think I spaced for a moment.” 

It was an on-going joke amongst those that worked there, that Gendry’s office was made by cupids, that whichever couple went into the office, stayed together, and yeah, it was laughable really, but at least the levity didn’t hang as heavy as memories did. 

“Did you need something?” Gendry asked, sitting back in his chair with his palms on his thighs. The sheer bulk of him was ridiculous, but it worked all the same way.

“Right, yeah…” Lyanna sat at one of the chairs that faced his desk, “I’m moving back home in the end of June.” 

Gendry raised his brows at her words, eyes wandering past her as he folded his arms behind his head in thought. He nodded shallowly before meeting her gaze once more. Taking a moment before finally answering her.

“You’ll be needing to leave a bit before then, right?” 

“I will, yeah.” 

He shook his head with a chuckle, “Fed up of the mainland already?” 

“Oh yeah, the mainlanders have nothing on Bear Islanders, especially not you southerners,” Lyanna joked back, leaning back more relaxed in the leather chair. 

After letting himself laugh, Gendry left the room for just a moment, coming back moments later with two bottles, setting one down beside her before taking his seat once more. 

“Your shift is almost over, so this shouldn’t hurt,” he stated, before leaning over to open both beer bottles. 

Gendry pocketed his bottle opener again, taking a generous pull and pushing his mess to the corner of his desk. 

“If I’m drinking with the boss, I guess it doesn’t matter, huh?” Lyanna laughed along with him, taking a sip from the bottle that left a ring on his desk. 

“When do you want to be off by?” Gendry questioned. He pulled his glasses back up to his nose, glaring at the calendar that sat at his desk. 

“I won’t need much time before leaving,” Lyanna explained, “so mid-June would be prime really.” She took another sip of her beer. 

“Alright, kid. No problem.” He said, marking his calendar in a red marker, “Week of the fifteenth good for you?” 

“Yeah, absolutely.” 

Gendry nodded, dropping his glasses once again, “Is this an ‘excited to go back home’ situation?” He asked with a lick of hesitance before he sat back in his chair once more. He tipped his bottle, tiny in his hand, but just numbing in her own. 

Lyanna shrugged, watching him nod in understanding, “It doesn’t really matter, I’ve got to be there though.” 

“It happens.”

Lyanna watched his eyes wander the nooks and dents of his desk before deciding to ask a question of her own, “You left home to come here didn’t you?” 

It was a wary thing to ask, especially with someone who was always so reluctant to give away information about his personal life. But in the year she worked for him, Lyanna found Gendry to be a lot more approachable once one looked past the dark angry brows and thick arms. 

She knew he had heard her, he took a deep breath before he looked back at her and held his beer between two hands on his lap. 

“I did, yeah, originally from Flea Bottom, King’s Landing,” he said, letting a beat of silence pass before continuing, “I moved here… ten years ago.” Lyanna watched him let out a laugh before running his fingers through his thick, closely trimmed beard. 

“Ten years? Gods…” 

“Yeah, it’s been a while… but I can’t see myself anywhere else.” 

“Why did you move?”

“Other than Flea Bottom being the worst?” 

Lyanna laughed, “Yeah, other than that of course.”

Gendry let out a breath, eyes wandering over the room as he smiled, normally a thing that was only ever seen when the steel-eyed Arya was around him, but it felt comforting to have him not completely closed off to her curiosity. 

“I needed to be somewhere other than what I once associated with home.” 

He said it all so slowly, almost as if he was thinking on each word before it left his tongue. As if the excuse were so rusty at this point. It hit her far too hard. There she was, still gearing up to go back home, even though she felt her heart tug at his words. 

“Either way, my family is really here,” Gendry added.

_And my family is in Bear Island waiting for me._

Lyanna opened her mouth to ask yet another question, but the words died on her lips when Arya walked in. She watched Gendry’s broad shoulders fall slightly, all the tension he’d been harbouring over the length of their short conversation seemed to dissipate in her presence. 

_Family_. It made sense. No matter how many thick jumpers she saw Gendry pull on when winter came for the North, she knew it was clearly worth it when Arya was around.

“Hey,” Arya greeted, flashing her white smile as she got closer to Gendry. 

Lyanna managed a tired smile, “Hey,” she said back, and watched Arya set down her gym bag and took Gendry’s beer, taking a quick sip. 

She could see the muscle that lined Arya’s core, peeking out through the gap between her tight leggings and sports bra. Her short, brown hair was tied tightly in a ponytail but Lyanna could easily make out the few stray strands that stroked her long neck. Even covered up in a cardigan, Arya was always a welcomed sight. 

“Why are you so quiet—“ Arya stared at Gendry before moving her gaze to Lyanna, “did you accidentally ask him how he’s doing?” 

When she smiled this time it felt easier with how Arya easily threw a jibe at her boyfriend. Gendry took his beer back with a laugh and stood up from his chair, giving Arya the seat before sneakily kissing the top of her head. 

Maybe it was a family trait, the raging ebullience that infected every room they stepped in. 

“No, I was just telling Gendry I’m resigning a bit after this term is over.”

“Oh no, resigning— are you trying to make my brother cry?” 

She was glad that she hadn’t chosen that moment to sip her beer, choosing to completely evade any thoughts that would send her down a spiral. Especially one that involved glistening blue eyes. 

Lyanna cleared her throat and gave Arya a tight smile, “I’m just gonna go out and give Willow a hand before I head out.” 

“Alright,” Arya smiled back, her smile reached her grey eyes. 

“Okay, kid, see you,” Gendry waved her off, forgetting her presence as she headed for the door and finally leaned down to meet Arya’s lips with his. 

Lyanna closed the office door behind her and tossed her empty bottle into the recycling bin and made her way back to the bar where Willow’s back faced her as she seemed to be lost in a discussion with Pyp. It was early in the evening, the sun had likely not even set yet, but given the sudden heaviness of the day, she was glad her shift was coming to an end. 

“Hold these will ya—?”

She found herself being handed several circular parts, slowly registering that they were meant to be attached to the pipe underneath the sink. 

“Something wrong?” Lyanna tilted her head to see where the issue was. 

“Yeah… but I have no idea what.” 

The pub wasn’t quite full yet, one or two people sat at the empty tables but the bar remained vacant other than Pyp’s presence. He turned at the sound of Grenn’s confusion, focused on the two of them all of a sudden as he hummed a tune she couldn’t place. 

“What d’you have there?” Pyp asked the both of them. Grenn only shook his head with a frown.

She stared down at the things in her hand as well before glancing up at them, watching Pyp signal Grenn to come closer. When he did, Pyp met his lips with a smile. Again, it wasn’t quite a big deal when the pub was mostly empty. Lyanna smiled, averting her eyes before realising Gendry was behind her with crossed arms. 

“It’s been five years since you’ve worked here Pyp,” Gendry interrupted, walking towards Grenn after Lyanna handed him the sink parts in her hands, “but you still distract Grenn like you did back then.” 

Pyp grinned, still leaning over the bar, “As if your little Arya doesn’t do the same thing,” he retorted. 

“Maybe if she heard you call her little—“ Gendry said, crouching to check under the sink, “then, I wouldn’t have to worry about you two making out all the damn time.” 

He set the loose bits on the counter by the sink and messily rolled up the sleeves of his flannel. Pyp’s eyebrows scrunched up in confusion, “What does that have to—“ 

“She’d have your tongue,” Gendry interrupted again. His tone changed entirely as he stared at Grenn’s handiwork, “what in seven hells did you do, Grenn?” 

Lyanna took that as her cue to leave, checking her pockets for her phone before going into the bathroom. 

After washing her hands, she took a moment to stare at her reflection. The lighting in the bathroom was shoddy at best, but the once warm, yellow light had been switched to a pale, white one that made the place horribly uncomfortable, a stark contrast to the rest of the cosy pub. 

Her long black hair was tightly braided out of the way and down her back and her concealer worked well in covering the darkened rings under her eyes. Through all this at least she’d gotten the hang of covering up in concealer. Lyanna dried her hands on her jeans and took her phone out, trying to ignore the throbbing in her head that she blamed on her braid. 

For a moment her thumb hovered over the number she’d been wanting to dial for the last few weeks. Though her restraint grew weary, she knew better than to give in to her impulses.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading and for the amazing feedback on the last chapter  
> lots of love,  
> [fineosaur](https://fineosaur.tumblr.com)  
> come say hi x


	11. what do i do when my love is away?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I mean, I knew you were into her but I never expected you to tell her you loved her… _you’re Rickon._ ”  
> 
> 
> Something about the emphasis she put on her last words seemed to strike him. It was a simple enough statement, but it held far too much. After years of dodging any form of commitment, who was he to think things would fall so easily into his lap just when he wanted it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from : with a little help from my friends - the beatles 
> 
> so i know it's been half a year, but happy new year to anyone still reading! 
> 
> here's a chapter that's been sitting in my files for months now.

__

_may_

_rickon_

May was mostly calm. Spring hardly brought much comfort, and with summer approaching, caught in the midst of his exams, Rickon found his energy dwindling in every sense. 

Though something kept him tethered to his reality, he couldn’t seem to place it. But as most Saturday nights these days, Rickon found himself in the presence of his two closest friends. And in many ways, it felt a lot like their high school days, just with a little more consequence. 

Whilst life often flit by swiftly enough, much of it seemed dormant as well, leaving him uncomfortable and restless for things to change. This transient phase of life felt longer than it needed to be, and Rickon just needed a change of pace. 

He was sat with his feet up on the armrest of the sofa, his eyes closed to stop the strain his tired eyes got from the lights. Though it was probably unwise of him to hang upside down with a spinning head, he was never one to sit properly anyway. 

“Drink.” 

Glass clinked against the table as Tommen hissed after taking his shot. “Wait— ugh, I shouldn’t have had to drink, I got that question right,” Tommen said, struggling to stringing his words together.

Rickon lifted his head to see the way Tommen squinted his eyes at Shireen, holding a badly cut lemon slice between his teeth. 

“Didn’t we order food?” Rickon sat up, watching as Shireen began handing out cards. “What are you even playing anymore?” 

Shireen looked up at him, eyes frowning before sighing and putting the cards down. “I’m just tired of studying at this point.” 

“So, maybe we just drink?” Rickon suggested. 

“Ah yes, and fuck the exams,” Tommen said, trying to open a packet of crisps. 

“I ordered four pizzas, they should be on their way here,” Shireen told him, lifting herself off the sofa and grabbing the crisps out of Tommen’s hands from his spot on the floor. 

Given that Rickon had crammed enough in the last few weeks that he’d begun seeing the faint colour of his books in the back of his eyes when he fell into bed at night, he was more than happy to take a break. Between training and studying, he found that there was little room to think of much else, which for one he was somewhat thankful for.

Taking a seat on the floor, Rickon reached out for the clear bottle of liquor, eyeing the bottle. “What the fuck is Green Island Rum?” He looked up at Shireen, not bothering to ask Tommen because she was the one who knew these things. 

“Oh!” Her clear blue eyes widened at him in amusement. “Please taste it.” 

Rickon opened the bottle, smelling the alcohol and cringing at how strong it was, “Straight?” 

“Yes,” Shireen answered. 

“No,” Tommen responded with a laugh. 

Rickon laughed at Tommen’s comment, deciding to just fuck it and listen to Shireen, because what was there to lose when he was already a couple hundred skips past sober. He tipped back the bottle, immediately regretting the decision as the rum burned down his throat, tasting far too much like perfume. 

“What the fuck?” Rickon coughed into his elbow, closing the bottle and shoving it back onto the coffee table. 

Shireen began laughing at him, skipping the song that came up on her playlist, Franz Ferdinand playing in the background instead. 

“Do you even drink rum?” 

“No, but Davos gave me it,” Shireen got up from her seat. “Apparently my dad likes it, and I can’t tell why.” 

Her father never liked anything good, that much Rickon knew, it was shocking however that a man like Davos was one of them. He picked himself up as he watched her sift through her purse. 

“Do you have loose cash?” 

“Uh yeah.” 

Rickon took his wallet out of his pocket along with his phone. As he handed Shireen his wallet, his eyes lingered on his phone, but he chose to set it aside and get up for a glass of water. He pushed back the thought of the number of times he had opened iMessage, typed out a message to Lyanna before deleting it and closing the app. 

He hadn’t seen Lyanna since the day she returned from Bear Island. It had gone from ‘I miss yous’ and spontaneous phone calls to shutting him out entirely, acting like there was nothing but sex between them. It settled like a stone in his throat. After the way they’d been together, it was hard to believe her. But he didn’t dare give himself any false hope over it. Or even allow himself to think about it, at least he told himself he wouldn’t. 

Shireen came back into the living room, tossing his wallet at him and placing the pizza boxes onto the limited table space. Rickon barely registered her until her voice broke him out of his thoughts. 

“Tommen, if you’re going to fall asleep, at least do it in your room, it’s right there,” Tommen got up off the ground and threw himself onto the sofa which seemed to be good enough for Shireen who opened up one of the boxes and began eating.

“Are you okay?” Shireen asked, shoving the opened box in his direction against the table. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Rickon shrugged her question off, taking a slice. 

“So you’re not waiting for a message?” Shireen pulled one of the covers thrown against the sofa to cover her feet. 

“I am not.” 

“Oh yeah?” He glared at her, trying to stop the way her eyes were boring into him. “Is this to do with Lyanna?” Shireen asked, as if she knew all of the answers to all the questions. 

At this point, he didn’t put it past her. Rickon didn’t know a point in his life where Shireen wasn’t at his side, watching him fuck up only to help him through it. He supposed this was another one of those times, maybe he had even grown predictable rather than erratic. 

“No, why?”

Shireen sat back, looking at him with narrowed eyes, she threw a glance at Tommen before glaring at him again. It was a stupid indication that he could talk whilst their golden-haired best friend slept. 

“What?” He felt his voice rise, knowing she was close to asking exactly what she had been wanting to ask. “We’re not talking about this again, Shireen.” 

“Yes, we are, you haven’t said anything since you came over disgusting from your run and ranting about how stupid you are.” 

He gave her that one because he had done that when his head was all full and he had just run out of his dorm after confessing to how much he loved her. 

Rickon glared at her, too drunk to properly dodge someone of Shireen’s calibre. “I was not disgusting,” he remarked, only picking apart what she had told him. “I washed up.” Even then, he had known asking him to shower was just a tactic to give her time to get Tommen out of their flat. 

“Only after I asked!” 

“You’re tremendously supportive, y’know that?” He told her sarcastically. 

“I know, which is why I’m asking you to talk, whilst I have the mental capacity for it,” Shireen took one of the pizza boxes into her lap and waited for him, “and whilst Tommen is passed out.”

He sat back onto the sofa behind him, eating as well, not knowing what to even say, or what to start with, his thoughts were all going about his head endlessly.

“He pretty much knows.”

“He knows what? You never let _me_ ask what actually happened,” Shireen started again, “you only said that you were a, and I quote, _‘a fuckin’ idiot’_.” Her cheerful demeanour was comforting despite trying to pry behind whatever walls he had set up the moment he had begun spiralling. It was plainly the most gentle freefall he had ever felt. 

“I’m still a fuckin’ idiot,” Rickon scoffed.

“Yeah, _I_ know that,” Shireen stared at him, blank expression as she continued eating. Rickon refused to answer, tipping his head back against the sofa, lost in thought. His own silence was almost deafening as the beat of _Tell Her Tonight_ played on. “Rickon, what happened?” 

“I told her I loved her,” he sighed, avoiding her eyes. He stared at the ceiling instead. 

“Oh gods,” Shireen laughed. 

Rickon’s head snapped in her direction, watching as she covered her mouth and put her slice of pizza down to the box. He faked a smile at her, “You’re great, really,” he told her sarcastically. 

“I’m sorry,” she laughed a little longer, “I mean, I knew you were into her but I never expected you to tell her you loved her… _you’re Rickon_.” 

Something about the emphasis she put on her last words seemed to strike him. It was a simple enough statement, but it held far too much. After years of dodging any form of commitment, who was he to think things would fall so easily into his lap just when he wanted it? 

Rickon stared back at her and shrugged. “Yeah, well I did.” 

“And what did she say?” 

“She—“ he threw his hands up with a sigh, “shit, she told me she didn’t feel anything like that for me.” 

“Harsh,” Shireen said quietly.

“Yeah, you think?”

“Stop with the snapping and just tell me what happened,” Shireen told him, leaning back again and resuming eating, “this was the day she came back wasn’t it?” 

His heart tugged slightly, just remembering the day, “She showed up at my dorm that day,” Rickon began, “but I’d thought about telling her how I felt, like a month before then. It just never felt like the right time to bring it up.” 

“Yeah?” Shireen finished off the crust of her pizza. 

“Uh, do you want details or should I cut to me telling Lyanna I love her?” 

“Fine,” Shireen took a sip from her bottle of water, “give me details.” 

“I really hate you.” 

“Since I can’t find any girls right now, I’m going to have to live through you,” Shireen defended herself.

“Well, not anymore.” 

“Oh boohoo, sad little slut. Just tell me how you drove her off.”

“You’re so mean,” Rickon faux pouted at her. He ran his hands through his hair, knowing well that it was probably a mess from all his tugging, and thought about where to start.

“I’m joking,” Shireen kicked his knee softly, “tell me what happened.” 

Rickon sighed, passing his thumb over his lips. Turning to the side, he faced her, with his feet up on the sofa. 

“Take your time,” she added, putting the pizza onto the table and tucking her feet under herself. 

“She came over and of course I was happy to see her, so we didn’t quite talk other than saying hi,” Rickon began explaining. 

He went into detail, just as Shireen had asked. He went from where they started in his doorway all the way to how he ended up tossing his chair aside in a fit of anger once Lyanna had left.

It was hard not to think about how deeply he had kissed her the moment he laid eyes on her that day, or how thoroughly consuming the feeling of being with her had felt. And just thinking about it, made his heart sink, further than it had already gone.

Shireen’s commentary such as _“Standing up?”_ and a few proud nods almost made it amusing to tell her the whole thing. Until it came to the whole aftermath, to how he laid at her side and felt the world start and stop in her eyes. 

“Then we talked, she told me about how her sisters want to meet me… it all just worked, y’know?” He sat up properly, leaning closer to her so that she could understand how much he had thought he had it all figured out. “She spoke of all these things and I knew there was no way I wasn’t telling her how I felt.” 

“I don’t understand her,” Shireen said, “from my perspective, I was sure she was just as grossly crazy about you like you are, just in a more subtle, Lyanna way.” 

Rickon shook his head again, looking at the ceiling, “She’s just— I’ve never met someone like her. She’s everything I couldn’t even possibly dream up, into a person. She never made me feel like I was too much,” He passed his thumb over his lips again, thinking about a phone call or two they had when she was away. Rickon’s eyes wandered silently, “I just thought that she saw me differently. Differently to how everyone else seems to think I’m too intense or too erratic.”

“Then what?”

“Then we had sex again,” Rickon said, “and it was something else, I don’t know how to explain it, it felt like we were there together and that’s all that mattered, then right after I told her I loved her and it was as if she was someone else entirely.” 

“Do you think she was lying?” 

“Lying? I don’t know, but why would she lie?” Rickon asked, “as far as I know… with what it had become, between Lyanna and I… it didn’t feel like nothing, not with how she acted.” 

“Maybe she was scared?” Shireen suggested, “Or just wasn’t ready for a relationship.” 

“We were practically dating, it’s stupid to have been scared.”

“Not everyone is ready to dive into things quickly like you are, Rickon,” Rickon rolled his eyes at her pun. “Are you getting my point?” 

“Yeah, I am,” Rickon told her reluctantly, “I just miss her. It’s so fuckin’ weird, I think about her constantly. At every moment, I’m thinking about her and it just makes my head hurt because I know I’ll always just miss her.” 

“I think that’s called love, bud,” 

“Don’t call me that, did Arya tell you to call me that?” 

Shireen ignored his question and continued to prod. “What exactly did she say?” 

“Well, it felt like I was talking _at_ her, rather than _to_ her because every time I said something she kept bringing up that we said we’d never let it get complicated, and then I asked her if she really felt nothing and she just said that she was sorry.”

“How did she end up leaving?”

“I asked her to leave,” 

“You _asked_ her to leave?”

“I was getting winded up, I knew if I was around her any longer I’d do something stupid like apologise or—“ 

“Or pull a Rickon?” 

“ _Pull a Rickon?_ ” 

“Where you yell a bunch of things that don’t even make sense just to make someone else feel just as shitty as you do?”

“I don’t do that anymore,” Rickon shook his head.

“I know.”

“But who knows… imagine I let myself go like that?” Rickon asked, gesturing at nothing in particular before passing his fingers through his hair. “I just couldn’t be around her without going crazy so I asked her to leave and went for a run to clear my head. Clearly, it didn’t work,” Rickon scoffed, “I’m always this fucking close to sending her a text or just full-on calling her.” He held his hand up to show exactly how close. 

“You shouldn’t do either,” Shireen told him, “you made the right choice in asking her to leave.”

“Do you really think so?” 

“Yeah, whether she actually has feelings for you or not is beside the point, she didn’t want to admit to it for the Gods know what reason and if you would’ve just gone along with her, you would just be getting more and more hurt until things inevitably end.” 

“I suppose you’re right.”

“I _am_ right.”

“I just miss her,” Rickon admitted, tipping his head back and folding his lips together, “I just want to see her again. And it’s been like a month… I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to be with anyone after her. She was— I can’t even explain. Everything felt right when I was around her.”

“Maybe _you_ need to get fucked,” Shireen suggested, gesturing at him with her water bottle.

“Maybe?” Rickon stared at the ceiling again, “I don’t know if I’m ready to be with anyone though, because she’s all I think about.” 

“I really don’t want to know what you wank to,” Shireen pulled a disgusted face. 

“As if you’ve never asked me a question like that,” Rickon said mockingly.

“We were in middle school and I wanted to know if it was normal to think of girls all the time," Shireen tried defending herself, lightening the mood at least by a little. 

“Fair point,” Rickon shrugged. 

The silence between them hardly lasted, but whilst it was comfortable silence, it became a moment for him to reflect on everything Shireen had said. 

But like he had said, there wasn’t a moment that went by that she wasn’t on his mind. In an all-consuming thought, he carried Lyanna around with him everywhere. It was brutally intoxicating, being in love because as soon as he remembered her smile, he remembered that he wouldn’t see it again, or at least he wouldn’t be the cause of it. 

Rickon sat back and fiddled with the watch on his wrist. “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted. Maybe it was a cry for help, asking Shireen to make a decision for him, because every choice he seemed to make, were the wrong ones. 

Shireen glanced at him, lifting herself off the sofa. “There’s nothing to do,” she told him as she began to clear the table. “For now we’ll get through these exams and then you can cry about her all you want.”

“No, I still have my swim meets to focus on as well,” Rickon shook his head, staring at the obscene amount of alcohol that littered the coffee table. “I shouldn’t even be drinking.” 

“Mhm right, I forgot about that.”

“You’re still coming right?” Rickon asked, with wide eyes. 

“Riverlands for a week with your sister? Sure, Arya’s good company.”

Rickon nodded, balancing several bottles in his arms and taking them towards the cabinet in the kitchen. Maybe it would be good to get away for a while. 

After a while of putting everything away, Rickon glanced at Tommen still sleeping on the sofa with an arm thrown over his face to block the glare of the light. He smiled and turned to Shireen. 

“I’m gonna take Tommen’s bed then,” he told her quietly, “seeing as he won’t be using it.” Shireen glared at him. She opened her mouth to counter him but he stopped her. “I know what you’re going to say and I don’t want to hear it. I’ll wake up alone this time, I promise.” 

Shireen scoffed, “You woke up alone last time too,” she rose her thick eyebrows. Rickon shook his head in ignorance, maybe all his bad choices along the years were to blame for him getting into this mess. 

* * *

The new week brought in a few last papers, new headaches, and tension in his shoulders. And whilst Rickon stood from the diving board, his body already began feeling cold, and despite his trainer already making his way out of the pool area, Rickon still stayed back. 

He adjusted his goggles from where they began growing uncomfortable on his face and finally took his dive. 

Everything, including the white noise in his head, went silent as soon as he hit the water. Instead, he found a semblance of peace underneath. Even if it lasted only moments, until his body came back to the surface and he started on his last lap, Rickon got a moment of relief, which perhaps he could look forward to when he was done with his grief.

That was the thing that got him about being underwater. There had been a point in his life where his head was always too full, as a teen acting out, he caused trouble for everyone else but the recesses of his mind had always craved serenity— which he had found in the bottom of a pool. 

When Rickon lifted himself out, he pulled off his cap and goggles. He took himself towards the showers with his towel in hand, not quite making use of it as drops from his wet hair ran down his face. He could still smell and taste the chlorine as he walked into the showers, greeting one of the staff who asked how his sister was doing. 

The hot water was good against his skin. With the way tension built up in his shoulders and back, heat was a good relief, even for the weight in his head.

It seemed that the only things that would flood his mind lately were Shireen’s words. Her sincerity when she had told him he’d made the right call when he had asked Lyanna to leave, no matter what tone he said it with. It still weighed on him regardless, no matter how right he was, how validated he felt for being angry, the melancholy still rained over him, much colder than the way the showerhead provided.

Outside the gym, the sun was a welcomed warmth, even if he knew his car would be hot to the touch. With his hair wet, he walked with his key in one hand and bag in the other. The glare of the sun didn’t bother him too much, and he was sure as he strode to his car, his sister couldn’t see the way he rolled his eyes at her from under his sunglasses. 

“Why do you never have your car?” Rickon asked, lifting his sunglasses to raise an eyebrow at her. 

“I prefer walking,” Arya looked up at him, scooting slightly to let him unlock his car. 

He rounded the car and dropped his bag into the boot. “So you aren’t asking for a ride home?” Rickon stared back at her as he closed the hatch. 

“Well, I can't quite refuse my baby brother can I?” 

“I didn’t even offer,” Rickon lowered himself into his seat, glancing to his side where Arya already sat. “You’re so annoying, will you not call me that.” 

“Call you what?” Arya asked, reaching up to his rearview mirror, from where a silver chain hanged. 

Rickon glared at her and lowered his sunglasses again. This time he swatted her hand away from the chain, he wouldn’t put it past her on recognising it, but he was glad she chose against bringing it up. 

“You don’t want me to call you a baby?” Arya questioned his silence, sitting back, and going through her phone. “But you are the baby of the family, aren’t you?” 

“Arya,” Rickon warned, “I’m not in the mood for this.” 

He lowered the handbrake and put his car in gear, trying not to meet her eye when he drove out of the parking space. 

Arya flicked his ear as he drove out of the parking lot and onto the motorway, “What’s the matter with you?” She asked with sincerity this time. 

Rickon kept his both hands on the wheel as he turned before finally switching to one, choosing to roll down his window in favour of responding to her. The afternoon breeze stung his eyes and he continued driving. 

Arya sighed, tinkering with his radio until she was satisfied with the station that came up. “Sometimes you don’t shut up and other times you just don’t talk,” Arya went on, clearly bored by the car ride that felt far too long for how it really was. 

He still refused to reply, keeping his eyes on the road, occasionally darting to his window but never looking back at her. They were at a red light when Rickon finally drew his eyes to his older sister, hearing the sound of the glove box opening. 

Arya pulled out an old pack of cigarettes at the top, opening it up and bringing it to her nose. He knew there were quite a few left in it, along with the lighter he had wedged into the box, but he also remembered the last time he had actually made use of those cigarettes. 

“Hey,” Rickon grabbed the cigarette pack out of her hands and threw it back into the compartment, closing it with a snap. “Will you stop?” 

“You’ve been smoking?” Arya asked in a tone not as playful as it had formerly been. 

Given that the last time he had smoked was in his car on a spring morning, with Lyanna in his lap, he couldn’t say that he had been. 

“No, I have my swim meets at the end of next month, are you crazy?” Rickon answered, driving again as the light went green. “I haven’t used those in months, I forgot I even had them.” 

His eyes shifted from the road to Arya just to watch as she nodded, her furrowed brows told him she had much more on her mind to bring up. Her sudden silence bothered him, as did everything else these days. 

“Say what you want to say, Arya. You’re getting on my fuckin’ nerves.”

“Gods, what in the Seven Hells has gotten into you?” Arya suddenly snapped, staring directly at him. It felt like a whack in the chest, despite his provocation of her. “I’m being nothing but nice to you and everything seems to be getting under your skin. Is it your training? Is it your exams that’s making you this way?” 

“Stop trying to analyse me,” Rickon spat back, his hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as his anger inflamed by her. “Can’t I just be pissed off for the reason of being pissed off, why does everything have to have a meaning? Just let me be.” 

“No.”

“ _No?_ ” Rickon repeated exaggeratedly though not the least bit surprised. 

“No, I’m not going to let you be,” Arya told him. “I’m your older sister and I’m always going to worry for you.” 

“This is— I’m way too sober to deal with any of this, Arya,” Rickon replied defeatedly and abruptly. He’d completely laid off all substances given his approaching swim meets. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. I’m fine. Or I will be when this is all over. There’s too much going on.” 

“Okay, Rickon.”

“Thank you.”

Once the silence in the car began growing stifling, Rickon fiddled with the radio which had gone scratchy for some reason. 

“Where do you want me to drop you?” Rickon asked eventually when they got closer into town. 

“The pub, I haven’t seen Gendry all day,” Arya replied, scrolling through her phone. 

The sun had begun to set when he drove into the parking lot of Gendry’s pub. 

“Do you want to get down for a drink then?”

Rickon stared at her for a moment, remembering it to be a Wednesday. “No, I’m not drinking,” Rickon told her, watching her get out of the car. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to just come for some food?”

“No, it’s alright I’m meeting Monty for dinner tonight.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading  
> lots of love,  
> [fineosaur](https://fineosaur.tumblr.com)  
> (come say hi!)
> 
> ps 
> 
> it's been a while since I've posted anything, but i have been writing. with everything going on I've just lost track of the motivation that brought me to post my work. but i am determined to finish this story at some point (given how much i have written that hasn't seen the light of the world) and my one other posted wip. 
> 
> and eventually i hope to put up some of the other things I've been working on, until then.
> 
> i hope everyone's taking care of themselves wherever they are, given everything going on in the world. 
> 
> stay safe x

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [different kind of high](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24290308) by [yanak324](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yanak324/pseuds/yanak324)




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